


Days and Nights of Forever

by CoreaStories



Category: King of Eternity, The King: Eternal Monarch, 더 킹：영원의 군주 | The King: Eternal Monarch (TV)
Genre: F/M, Happily Ever After, MSD means making some descendants, PM Koo is not in jail, Tae-Eul is Queen, badass female characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 71,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoreaStories/pseuds/CoreaStories
Summary: The way to queenship was natural, fated, almost too simple, really. They chose to love their fate.Fate already had plans.A series of one-shots on how Tae-Eul becomes Queen of Corea.- Ties in with Corea News, but can standalone- Non-linear: One-shots may alternate from queen to not-queen-yet (-but-soon)- Rating to match the most audacious chapter to date
Relationships: Jeong Tae Eul/Lee Gon
Comments: 241
Kudos: 1615





	1. That Situation

Yeong was nearing the end of his patience. **  
**

Sometimes he wondered if he’d passed it long ago and what remained was the sheer habit and instinct of protecting the king instead of pounding him. 

“Pyeha, you have to at least tell me when you’ll go to–” 

And then he was taken aback when Gon looked him in the eye and Yeong saw the stark, blinding happiness there. 

“You found her.” 

It wasn’t a question. 

Gon got down from Maximus and exhaled, holding on tightly to the bridle of his horse as if it was the only thing stopping him from dancing a jig or punching the air. After several long moments in which Yeong replaced his irritation with resignation– like usual– the king let go of the bridle and brought both hands to his face, still breathing hard, and grinning through his hands. 

And Yeong found himself smiling. 

“She remembers you.” 

That wasn’t a question either. His king looked happy. _Alive_. 

And because he was trained all his life to be pragmatic and far-sighted, he had to ask. “But what happens now? How will you– how will you be together? Can you bring her here? That Luna’s here. She’s Koo Seo-gyeong. She’s a cop. She’s the Prime Minister’s adopted sister.” 

The king let go of his face and then looked up at the sky. The tops of the bamboo fronds framed a perfectly blue sky that was painful to look at but Gon kept his eyes open, maybe trying to burn his retinas so he’d stop seeing Tae-eul’s face just for a moment, Yeong suspected. He sighed. 

Then the king finally looked at him, blinking and grinning. 

“Yeong-ah. I've been told not to worry about what hasn't happened yet. So don’t worry so much. We’ll try to avoid that situation. And if it happens, we’ll find a way. There’s always a way.” 

#CoreaFiction 

* * *

If you read Corea News, you'll see that I don't subscribe to what the show's writers decided to do with PM Koo.

No, in my headcanon, Corea has all the badass women. And they slay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To get ahead in the storyline or just for extra fun, you can read:   
> Corea News Chapter 4: The protocol of touch  
> Corea News Chapter 9: A Royal Twin: Meet the Most Honorable Lady Seo-gyeong  
> Or all of Corea News, really, lol.


	2. The Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conversation between a queen and a prime minister– the glimmer of the start of a beautiful friendship, after they address something important. 
> 
> Can stand alone but also a companion to:  
> \- Corea News Chapter 4: The Protocol of Touch   
> \- Corea News Chapter 9: Meet the Lady Seo-gyeong
> 
> Follows the Corea News/Corea Fiction world where Lee Lim was defeated and the result is PM Koo uncorrupted. Her bossbitch tendencies are still there, we follow old canon (i.e., what happened still happened) but she isn’t corrupted by Lee Lim’s evil. She’s still PM, not all orange is the new black.

Koo Seo-ryeong grew up in the shadow of men. Well no, that was wrong. She grew up outwitting and outplaying people with power. Most of them happened to be men. **  
**

Her father was a wealthy idiot barely considered an adult when he impregnated her mother. The family wanted Seo-ryeong raised among them, but Seo-ryeong’s father barely looked at her, let alone acknowledged her existence. Seo-ryeong’s mother displayed backbone in the most important time of her life and kept Seo-ryeong in her own house, never mind that it was above a fish shop. 

When Seo-ryeong turned sixteen, she wrote to her father and asked for support for university. 

She got no response. 

Next, she demanded her school expenses for Seoul National University with a veiled threat and got what she wanted. 

She learned a lesson on how to sway people in power that day. 

When she was twenty, her uncle didn’t want his brother’s bastard daughter anywhere near him, but Seo-ryeong needed the powerful bullet in her CV, so she turned herself into a drudge in that law firm until she knew all the clients’ putrid secrets and the firm couldn’t function without her, and then she left for the prestigious fellowship in Cambridge and never looked back. 

When she came back home, she used her father, uncle and all the connections she could squeeze from the firm’s clients to get a position in her MP’s constituency office. “Fish shop girl” was bandied around but soon stopped. 

She ruled that office– and the weakling, incompetent MP. She ruled them all the same way she’d maneuvered her father and uncle like puppets. 

She soon replaced that MP. His constituency office became hers. And every row she went past to get closer and closer to the dais in the Royal Audience Hall meant she crushed men left and right, _crushed them_ , because these men belittled her for being a woman, for being a fish shop owner’s daughter, for being a bastard. The name Koo might hold position but still held no clout. 

Until the king made one comment. A single, off-handed comment. “The MP Koo might turn out better than the rest of you.” 

She was. She knew she was. She’d been demonstrating she was. But no one saw it until the king said it, in that non-partisan, impassive way, as if he hadn’t seen it either. 

She seethed but she grabbed her chance to get into the fray of the petty wars of the parliamentary parties. 

She got the backing of the Jinsun Party and they were too happy to use her to spite their opposition in the Gom Party. Jinsun was a bunch of old elitists and royalists who despised her fish shop background but one comment from the king was enough. 

She won the election. They hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected her to squirm from their grasp using the power they think they bestowed on her. 

She stood face to face with the king and drew measure of this man, the first she might not be able to crush. Nor have any need to. She quite despised herself for forcing a flirtatious laugh in his presence, and then simultaneously respected and hated him for not responding. 

Thus was the pattern of their acquaintance: she did all she could to push past his walls, but those walls remained unassailable while she became more and more… pathetically desperate. 

In her third year as Prime Minister, she married a man not unlike her father, her uncle, that first MP, and the members of the Jinsun Party. She would need his money for re-election after all. He was just another rung in the ladder she climbed. 

She continued to meet the king every week and he continued to be impassive, never letting down his guard around her, bantering, but never flirting. And always standing so tall, never sinking to the level of the power players around. 

Sometimes she wondered if she tested him because she wanted him to so she could lump him with the men she knew. 

She divorced her husband within the year. She revealed his corruption and sent him to jail to spite his family and his cronies in the party. 

She had nothing but contempt for the man. 

She was now in a position of power. So she was surrounded by other people in power, ones who either feared or despised her. She even began to look forward to her clashes with Lady Noh–which were real clashes rather than ego baiting. 

She was beginning to tire of it. Ten years of her life fighting these men, crushing them. Repeat. 

She wanted to keep doing what she was doing. She liked being able to steer the country in the direction she wanted. To do that, she needed power. The kind of power that didn’t come with this constant battle with dunces, and instead came with prestige and permanence. 

Only an idiot wouldn’t try to pursue the king. She was in position. She knew her assets. She knew men. 

Or so she thought. In her blind and frantic thirst for power, she forgot the kind of men she knew. Which was far from the kind of man the king was. 

So she lost him. And here was the woman who now held the power she wanted. A woman with barely styled hair and a face barely touched with makeup. 

Seo-ryeong didn’t know what to make of that face. She knew that face. Grew up with that face since she was sixteen. Learned to tolerate and then love that face since she was eighteen, when “Luna” legally became Koo Seo-gyeong, became her sister, the bright little urchin who only laughed when Seo-ryeong bullied her, not backing down and not retaliating. 

Seo-gyeong was what Seo-ryeong wanted to be, but by the time Seo-gyeong pushed her way into her heart, Seo-ryeong’s heart had already been too occupied, too closed, too obsessed with her goal to spite her father, her uncle, all the men who never saw her as anything but a drudge. 

And now Seo-gyeong’s face was the face of the queen. 

Seo-ryeong had taken that in stride, didn’t show the least bit of shock when she first saw the queen at the wedding. This wasn’t her sister. This was a different person altogether. 

And strangers were always interesting. 

They both ignored the lowered buzz of hubbub around them. This was the NanoStem Institute, and you’d think they’d invite only people with brains, but even the best people lost their wit when confronted with royalty. Witness her own pathetic actions with the king. She wished she could forget it. When would she forget it? 

Seo-ryeong rose from her chair when it was clear the queen was approaching _her_. What was she doing? She wasn’t supposed to be at that table. 

“Hello, Prime Minister.” 

“Your Majesty.” She put on her practiced smile. “How are you, ma’am?”

“I’m good. May I join you?”

“Of course.” 

They both pretended to care about their other companions for a few minutes. Seo-ryeong watched her. The queen had this annoying habit of tucking her chin in a small bow as if everyone at the table were her betters instead of the opposite. 

It irritated her. It brought her back to her own days when everyone around her _were_ her betters. 

Watching as she did, she soon sensed the queen’s impatience and discomfort with people fawning over her. The signals were tiny, but Seo-ryeong recognized them. 

_Save her, unnie. You know you want to._

Cursing Seo-gyeong in her head, Seo-ryeong cleared her throat loudly. As the most senior person at the table, next only to the queen, the idiots quieted at her subtle stare and busied themselves with something else. 

“Thank you,” the queen said softly. “That was becoming brutal. And this table is full of the worst.” 

Seo-ryeong had a mad desire to laugh. The queen was right. 

“Except you, of course.” 

That addition made Seo-ryeong snort delicately behind her serviette. 

“I’ve wanted to speak to you for awhile now,” the queen continued. “I never got the chance.”

“I’m always at your service, Your Majesty. I’m only a phone call away.” It was true. If the palace called, she’d come running. Well, flying. That was why she wanted to be in the palace herself. Her days of being summoned and being the gopher person were over and she was in the position to summon, too. If only no one else could summon her. 

“Oh no, I can’t do that. You’re the Prime Minister. I really am a fan.”

“I’m honored to have such a young and beautiful fan.” 

The queen had just spooned a bit of _yakgwa_ into her mouth, and she paused for two seconds with the spoon still in her mouth. Then she turned to Seo-ryeong and smiled. 

“Has it been better since you’re no longer with your party?” She lowered her voice further. “The king told me your party was the worst, too.“

“Well, parliamentary parties are unavoidable. But yes, it’s been better.” 

The queen seemed to be genuinely happy about that. “Tell me about yourself, please. Have you always wanted to be Prime Minister?”

No, I wanted to be queen and you know that. “Why do you ask, Your Majesty?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a cop. So I became one.” 

A cop. Who was she? Why was she a cop like Seo-gyeong, and yet had no records like Seo-gyeong? And she was no longer a cop. She was a queen, for heaven’s sake. 

Seo-ryeong found herself saying, “At first, I wanted to leave the country and serve in the International Criminal Court, but then I realized I might as well be Prime Minister here first and be someone by the time I joined the ICC. I didn’t want to be invisible again.” 

The queen was nodding, her lips forming a silent _ahh_. 

“Did you like being a cop? Were you treated well?” It was something she would have asked Seo-gyeong. 

“Yes, yes. I suppose I was lucky. I even had a newbie to boss around before I left.” 

There was something in her tone that prompted Seo-ryeong to ask, “Are you happy you left?” 

“In some ways, yes. In all the ways that count.” 

The serene confidence in that answer stunned Seo-ryeong. She had never felt that same serene confidence before. 

“But you must know how it is.”  
  
“I do?” 

“Yes. Running for re-election takes guts and sacrifice– you could have gone to the ICC– I’m sure they would have been happy to have you– but you went after re-election instead because it matters for you in all the ways that count.” 

Seo-ryeong sat there and felt like the queen had slapped her. 

In all honesty she ran for re-election just to prove she could, and to prove she could win. 

_When would she stop needing to prove things?_

Why was this woman, an eerie copy of her sister, assuming benevolence from her? 

Her position required everything but benevolence. Her position required the grit and ruthlessness that would work to the country’s advantage but also ensure she remained in power. 

And in one of those flashes of wisdom, Seo-ryeong realized it was the one thing she lacked. The one thing Seo-gyeong had and which she’d crushed in herself through the years of outplaying and outsmarting and crushing men. She’d had no benevolence left. Even her most altruistic campaigns and projects were rooted in currying the favor of the people of Corea. 

The king had said something about benevolence to her, something about needing more than benevolence to make history, something about being the country’s history. 

Like she wasn’t? Her term would end but wasn’t she also contributing to the country’s history? 

She remembered that night too well, too darkly, because she had seethed at his rejection, at his cavalier disregard of her, and it had only fanned the flames of her desire to crush him next. 

Now he was out of reach, and her fury for him had turned to almost-dead embers. Now here was his queen so casually laying Koo Seo-ryeong bare. It hadn’t even been half an hour since she’d sat down. 

It had taken one comment from the king to start her rise to power. 

It had taken one comment from the queen now to shake her footing on that power. 

“Do you like Lady Noh?” 

Seo-Ryeong blinked, took a drink of water, and pretended as if she hadn’t just had the scare of her life. It was terrifying, wasn’t it, to suddenly realize your motivations had been anything but, only a mad desire for…for spite and… 

_Calm down, unnie._

She composed herself. Perhaps Seo-gyeong and all her doubles–however many there turned out to be–were always meant to rub Seo-ryeong raw like this. And this time she couldn’t just get away like she’d left Seo-gyeong at home to stay at the university. 

“I don’t know her well enough to like her, Your Majesty. She did school me when I first came to the palace.” 

“Oh she did that to me, too. She’s always hiding talismans in my clothes.” The queen brought one out and showed it to her just at the edge of the table, out of sight of the others. “She says they’re talismans for success. I don’t need it that much, do I, not for the Institute’s opening?”

No, you don’t, do you? And if those were talismans for success, then I’m Princess Diana. 

“Do you want it? You might need it more than I do.” 

Seo-ryeong laughed outright. “No, ma’am. I don’t need that talisman.”

“Right. I suppose you don’t. You’re already successful.”

“That talisman is for the conception of children.” 

The queen didn’t seem too surprised with that and only made an expressionless face. An expression Seo-ryeong knew only too well. 

She’d always seen it in the king’s face. 

“I suppose I could have endured worse than this.” The queen put the talisman back in her jacket pocket. Then she looked at the Prime Minister with a hard glint in her eye. “I saw you push her.” 

“I beg your pardon?”

“In the security footage. Around October. You wanted to get to the king’s study and Lady Noh blocked your way and you pushed her.”

Seo-ryeong could only blink at her. Why was the queen looking at security footage from months ago? Did she have nothing to do in the palace? 

Then she almost clapped a hand to her mouth because she had said that aloud. 

She clenched her hand on her skirt. If this woman wasn’t the queen, Seo-ryeong would have said worse. 

The queen was amused. She knew it was a breach of protocol, and she knew Seo-ryeong was embarrassed about it. “I don’t know. I was just curious about those dates. _Don’t do it again_.” 

Seo-ryeong blinked at her some more. 

“I want to stay here. I want to work here. There are things you and I can do. I think you’ll do it so well and you can teach me so much. So I might need to invite you to the palace. And you can certainly invite yourself over. But don’t ever push Lady Noh again. If she says the king or I or both of us aren’t home, believe her.”

Seo-ryeong was stunned. If she were queen, she’d guard the palace against all women. She grasped at something she could parry. “Why wouldn’t you stay here? Where else would you go?”

The queen just smiled at her, a smile that reached those eyes, making them shine. People had said the queen had speaking eyes. Seo-ryeong had scoffed. But she was seeing those eyes now. “Exactly. Where else should I be?” 

The emotion and conviction in that answer reached Seo-ryeong in some deep part of her heart that also twinged when she spent too much time with Seo-gyeong. 

She should call Seo-gyeong. 

The program started and she and the queen paid attention. There were speeches both dull and interesting, a slideshow presentation that was more like a well-cut film, and then the ribbon cutting. And then it was done and the pathetic members of the media stood milling around the dais pretending they weren’t waiting for the queen to stand and give them photos. 

The queen turned to her. “Shall we?” 

At this point, Seo-ryeong was curious enough to take on whatever this strange person threw in her court. She knew the inner workings of the palace enough to know she wouldn’t be curious for long. They’d tell her what she needed to know when she needed to know. 

She stood with the queen and walked to the dais, letting the queen walk two steps ahead. She’d avoided appearances with the queen for this reason. But to her surprise, following precedence for this strange woman didn’t grate on her as she’d thought it would. 

As they stood there and the woman did that annoying chin tuck again, she said, “Thank you for the compliment of the invitation to the palace, Your Majesty.” 

They smiled at the cameras. Flash exploded in multiple bursts and she soon couldn’t see much. 

But she felt small hands come around her. 

“I think you’d do perfectly at the ICC. But don’t leave just yet. You’re awesome and you’re needed here.” 

Seo-ryeong found her arm going around the smaller woman’s shoulders–protocol be damned– and she smiled. Really smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted two things:   
> \- a convo that would pass the Bechdel test  
> \- PM Koo fleshed out rather than being this alternately creepy pushy woman and badass PM. I mean, what even. 
> 
> I’ve always loved that Tae-eul saw Seo-ryeong for her awesomeness. I really loved that. 
> 
> No petty jealousy or insecurity, only that fun-cute jealousy for Gon’s phantom dates at that riverside picnic spot, lol, and that self-depreciating remark about women in Gon's world beating her anyway during their dinner in Episode 6. 
> 
> But for a real flesh-and-bone woman Corea actually shipped with Gon, Tae-eul only saw her achievements. 
> 
> And as for Koo Seo-ryeong, there’s something really sad about her being highest in the land-- only below the royal house-- but still needing, wanting to be queen. I always saw it as more than greed. She saw it as the pinnacle of accomplishment since no one seems to see what she already accomplished. 
> 
> She had fans, sure. I think Corea also loved her enough to elect her. But to her peers, it was awful. She was actually called out that her party had placed her in power in a meeting that was about the country, not the party. FFS. 
> 
> It’s like they don’t see her. Years and years of that probably made inroads into her pride and self-esteem. 
> 
> And during that meeting after the neck kiss, I really hated how misogynistic the lot of them were. There was not a single rational person in that party– this is after they’ve seen PM Koo during the Japan skirmish, too. 
> 
> Not a peep about her competencies. It's like the PM we saw demanding solutions from her cabinet wasn't ever there, she was only this one-dimensional social climber/fish shop daughter who wanted to be queen and was currently sulking because someone else was going to be queen. The show just used the whole lot of them to try to underline that we should hate PM Koo, too. Badly done. 
> 
> Anyway, Lee Lim being out of the picture means PM Koo doesn’t get corrupted by Lee Lim. So I don’t see why she became a corrupt assemblywoman, and that was also with a sweet adopted sister like Seo-gyeong to keep her grounded too!   
> It didn’t make sense. I thought having a sister meant PM Koo wouldn’t be so full of herself, since her mother's wouldn’t be spoiling her? But then next we saw her she was in prison! Wat asdjhfalkdjfhlajh
> 
> So in my head, PM Koo stays in Corea, still being a bossbitch PM and chewing incompetent asses, and then she meets this new queen who has the face of her sister. 
> 
> And this queen saw her, Seo-ryeong, push aside an old lady– which is admittedly evil– but ALSO saw her for what she was– someone awesome, someone who could teach the queen, someone essential. 
> 
> She was.


	3. The First Friday

“You should go. Be in your office like any other Friday.” 

It was Thursday night again. They were back in Misa Lake Park again. There was chicken on the table again. 

He had found her--returned to her-- on Monday night. She hadn't gone to work. She told Chief Park she was taking personal days and would take care of whatever revenge he meted out next week. Tuesday, Wednesday, and today went by in a blur. She could barely remember what they did the last few days, everything was crowded out from her head just now by this impending separation, and this sense of impending doom that she knew was ridiculous but couldn't shake. 

The lights on the water kept blurring before her eyes. It was ridiculous. She was being ridiculous. At least her voice didn’t pathetically crack when she said that. 

But she hadn’t seen him for such a long time. _Such a long time_. She didn’t even want to think of the exact amount of time in her mind. 

She smoothed and picked at the lapel of his jacket. She’d bought it for him so he could get out of his “glorious” getup. She also had to buy him trousers. Other than that, he was wearing her father’s clothes, and she could smell the detergent and fabric conditioner on it, so familiar and so… delicious blended with his own distinct scent. 

She stopped fighting what she wanted to do and turned to him, snaking her arms around him, pushing her face against his shoulder and chest, inhaling that scent. 

She loved how he moved with her, arms encircling her, one hand burrowing itself under her hair to cradle the nape of her neck, the other gently clasping the dip of her waist inside her coat. Then both his hands began to make small caresses. 

Something clenched in her chest, so she said, “I can live without you, you know.” 

“I know.” 

“But I don’t want to.” 

“I’m sorry you had to. Tae-eul. I’m sorry you had to.” 

She nodded against him. He curled himself around her and kissed the spot between her ear and cheek, and she felt his lips become wet with the teardrop there. 

“Do you really want me to go?” 

She barely swallowed the gasp those simple words triggered. _Let me go._ That’s what he’d said before. _Tell me to go._ Asked her permission. She didn’t realize it had scarred her this way, this much, that it could still hurt now when she was back in his arms and he was in hers. 

So she tightened her embrace and let it soothe away the sting, let his new words overwrite the old ones. 

“I told you. You can go. You should go.” 

He gently nudged her face up to his, peering down at her with _those eyes,_ so she smiled and nodded. 

He nodded, too. “I’ll come back Saturday.” 

“You better.” 

Now he smiled, kissed her, and kissed her again. 

“Will you wait by the gate?” 

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know. It’s quite a drive. There’s traffic.” 

He laughed and kissed her again. 

She ate up the laughter and savored the kiss. Then pushed him off and told him to eat his chicken. 

He was going to return. He had already made several returns, hadn’t he? To other versions of her in other worlds, but to her just the same. 

She straightened her spine and suddenly couldn’t remember what she was blubbering about. 

* * *

#CoreaFiction 

#because I don’t like “I think I’ll die” bullshit lol, but I understand the heartwrenching worry, panic, love, fear that made her say that.

Rational Tae-eul is rational. 

Soft Tae-eul is soft and clingy. 


	4. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Episode 12's implied overnight shenanigans, and a king seeking and getting solace from his future queen.

Tae-eul loved silk sheets. Simultaneously cool and warm and so soft and smooth against her skin. That was the second thing she thought after waking up, right on the heels of _I love his arms around me_.

“You’re awake.”

She didn’t have to answer that so she just squeezed his forearm where it rested against her chest, the hand of that arm curled around her ribcage and _dragging_ across her skin, the fingertips writing something on the underside of her breast.

She stilled his hand and just held it like he held her, his other arm around her waist. She was pillowed on his shoulder and he was hugging her like she usually hugged that big stuffed dog-lion (who really knew?) she had won at the shooting arcade.

She’d always suspected he would be such a cuddler. And she’d always loved that she could sorta sink into his arms.

They were both on their sides, spooning, legs entangled. She could feel the hair on his legs on hers, his groin slotted almost too neatly against her butt, his stomach and chest against her back, his chin on top of her head.

He did let go for a second, reaching across her for the end table on her side of the bed. The way his body flowed and dragged across hers in that simple movement sent shivers down her spine. She felt him, all of him, and it was making her heart race.

She’d only just woken up.

He’d gone for a remote control. One push of the button and the drapes she was facing silently slid sideways, revealing the French windows and the gray light of dawn.

He was back where he was before, but now he was pressing his mouth to her ear. “The view is going to be spectacular,” he said softly. The timbre of his voice shouldn’t sound so good. It was unfair. “You’re going to see the sunrise over the coast just at that point.” A long finger specified a frame in the French windows.

He stopped talking but his lips continued tormenting her ear, laying petal-soft kisses on the shell, and then he captured her earlobe between his lips and she heard someone moan. It was her.

She squirmed away halfheartedly, not really going far.

“Does that door lock? Because I keep waking up to people when I’m here. The first time, it was Lady Noh and one other servant preparing my bath. And then yesterday it was that doctor removing my IV--”

He laughed softly and the sound did things to her. So did the way he looked as he pulled her back to him and maneuvered her so she was in the cage of his arms and legs with no escape. Not that she wanted to. “I locked the doors.”

He lowered himself gently alongside the length of her body, a warm weight she welcomed with open arms as she sank further into the mattress. They were both grinning at each other-- and she loved him. Loved seeing that smile. Loved holding him like this, her arms and legs cradling him, skin to skin.

He pressed open-mouthed kisses on her forehead, on both eyelids, the tip of her nose, both cheeks, and finally, when she was breathless for it, met her lips with his.

This was different. Last night when they’d first made love it was urgent and almost frantic. This time it was all gentle and languid kisses and touches, his hands dragging so slowly and maddeningly across her skin.

She clung to him as his tongue entwined lazily with hers, teasing and playful. She stroked the broad plane of his back and shoulders, letting her nails sink in and drag a little as he began to move his hips against hers. In a particularly deft twist and thrust that brought the head of his cock sliding and nudging against her clit, her hands just clenched on his hair and couldn’t seem to move.

He was grinning against her lips. And she smiled, too. He was making her mind go blank but there was still enough brain function for her to love that he was so happy.

He seemed content to rock against her for who knew how long. She loved it, but when she couldn’t take it any longer, she brought her hand between them and guided him where she wanted him, both of them losing their half-smiles to gasp and groan.

He slid in just as unhurriedly, capturing her moan into his mouth, then lingering there to look into her eyes, their noses dovetailed, breathing into each other’s skin. She could barely keep her eyes open, but she tried for his sake, for hers, because she wanted to lock her gaze to his just as much while their bodies locked, too.

“You are so beautiful.”

“Gon, move.”

She couldn’t believe that needy whine was hers.

He smiled again and _moved_. She loved it, each push and drag sparking her nerve endings, the head of his cock touching something heavenly inside her with every thrust that had her clutching for his glutes to try to make it happen again and again.

And he kept up the slow and maddening pace. At some point, she gave up trying to steer him and just watched him watching her.

She placed her hands on his neck, thumbs lovingly caressing his jaws. She loved that jawline. She used her core muscles to lever herself up and kiss that jawline. They both groaned at the _electric_ sensation that simple movement sparked.

She flopped back down on the bed, still loosely hugging him around the neck. “You having fun yet?”

He laughed and bent down to nip at her lips.

“What, can’t you talk?”

He nipped at the skin of her neck. “I can certainly talk, Jeong Tae-eul, I’m just trying to focus.”

“Oh I know men can’t multitask.”

He laughed against her neck and gave a rough, hard thrust, and another, and another. The fourth one stunned her and she came, and she couldn’t even make a sound as she gasped against his neck and shuddered.

He kept going for a few more thrusts, scooping her up so she was almost sitting on his lap, enfolded in his arms against his chest, and then followed her over the edge. He cradled her against him as he buried his face against her neck and her head lolled on his shoulder.

He placed lingering kisses against her skin, then hoarsely asked, “Will you be my queen?”

She was too boneless to do or say anything much but to weakly whisper, “Not… not today, Lee Gon.”

When she opened her eyes, not realizing she’d closed them, there was a look of disappointment on his face and she was stunned at how fiercely she wanted to change her answer just to undo that look on his face.

And where would that put them? They had last night and today and she shouldn’t--they couldn’t-- take more. Not yet. Maybe not ever. She swallowed. “Are you pouting?”

He looked down at her and she was relieved when his face turned sheepish, still slightly pouty. “No, no, it’s just we completely missed the sunrise and I really wanted to show it to you.”

She couldn’t help the giggling that triggered, and he laughed right back, and their combined shaking did interesting things where they were still joined, so laughter turned to kisses and heady caresses in the king’s chamber as the sun rose higher over Corea.

They didn’t really leave the bed until it was around nine a.m and Tae-eul heard and felt her stomach grumble. Gon made an amused face, looking at her so fondly. She wished he’d always look at her that way, and she missed it more than she dared admit when they were apart. He kissed her forehead. “Stay here.”

“You don’t have to leave me to cook. There’s probably already cooked food. Get me that.”

“Yes, all right.”

“I’ll taste yours for you.”

He smiled down at her as he donned his robe. Oh, she appreciated the sight of him in daylight. He raised an eyebrow as if he knew what she was thinking, so she winked just to make him laugh. He did as he left.

She got up and had a quick shower. Her day clothes were in the palace’s mysterious laundry system again, so she changed into another set of silk pajamas made ready in Gon’s bathroom. By the time she came out, there was the smell of food coming from the suite’s living area. She tentatively peeked past the double doors, but it was only him there, hands behind his back, looking out the window.

Behind him, a small table was spread with breakfast dishes. 

They ate silently, looking at each other and smiling, but this was no longer the playful and sweet Gon she'd woken up with. The short time they were apart between bed and breakfast, something had surfaced from within him. She could sense something brewing between them, brewing from him.

She’d expected this. Had wanted to ask about this, but they’d been so busy and he’d been so... so _kingly-- slashing his way through all those men_ and throwing away that gun and carrying her all the way here. 

And then he'd been alternately all-business and dorky and sweet. All of it in a way that almost intimidated her. Almost.

She just didn’t want to poke at his composure. 

But this time, she could and she would. They were someplace safe and private, and the privacy wasn't about to be broken any time soon. So she finished the last of her soup, sipped some water, and then walked around the small table and perched herself on the arm of his chair. 

He looked at her and her chest clenched painfully at the raw hurt and sadness in his eyes.

 _What happened to you since we last saw each other?_ Her arm moved almost without dictate from her brain, curling around his shoulder, her hand cupping his neck. “What is it?”

“Lee Lim killed my uncle.”

Her hand flew to her mouth. “The uncle who raised you?”

He nodded. "Strangled." 

Tears were spilling from her eyes and she irritatedly swatted them off her cheeks. She wasn't crying for the old man she hadn't met. She was crying for this man in her arms right now, grieving with those deep, sad eyes for the only father figure he had.

Strangled. Like he himself had been.

“I’m so sorry, Gon. That bastard.”

“I wish he could have met you. He could have. You’re here right now.”

“Oh Gon.”

And then he was quietly, gently sobbing against her chest.

She cradled his head and stroked his hair, wiped his tears and hers, too. When he subsided, she asked, “Is Lady Noh safe?”

He nodded, moving away but not too far, still leaning against her, and looking at her with that fond admiration that always made her uncomfortable because she didn’t know what she’d done to deserve it. “She’s under guard round the clock, and we know the family of everyone near her.”

“What about-- oh, “Yeong” was already shot.” She made air quotes.

“Yeah. But that was an accident. I don’t think they’d target him.”

“Yeah, the bullet was for you, wasn’t it?”

And then he was the one holding her cheek this time. “Don’t look like that. I’ll be careful. I won’t be easily eliminated.”

“You’re really lucky Eun-sup was there. You don’t wear bulletproof vests, do you?”

He looked back and forth between her eyes and he probably saw how terrified she was and said, “I’ll wear one from now on. Don’t worry. We’ll definitely win.”

She bit her lip to stop their trembling. Took a deep breath and reminded herself he was a king with all the power and resources of one. “All right, good. You better. If you get shot, I’ll kill you.”

* * *

Please hit the Kudos button if you liked it and tell me what you think! :) For something splendid, read [A Night For Transgressions by collectsfallenstars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857872)

I didn't have to write the night shenanigans because she already did. Lolol. 


	5. The Thirteenth Rule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tae-eul was given an epiphany. Twice.  
> That’s why she makes a decision-- destination be damned. 
> 
> Companion to Three Hours for Chicken and Seo-ryeong vs Lady Noh  
> Follows timeline of Inside Joke  
> Seriously, you need to read these fics to enjoy this one. Lol. I'm looking at you, people crying for Royal Baby.

**April 2020:** Tae-eul was a detective. Her training had taught her three hundred sixty vision, spreading her logic and hypotheses far and wide in all directions to try to predict and identify the motivations and ripples of a crime and a suspect trying not to get caught, or trying to weasel away. 

In the normal, non-criminal side of life, it meant she stopped her dad from wasting money on excess groceries, and got Eun-sup out of trouble before he even landed himself in it. She collected evidence and knew how to gather intelligence with or without informants. 

So when she was stabbed in the stomach, her detective’s brain went on a three-sixty degree identification of all threats, conscious and subconscious. 

“Is there-- Is there any way you could tell if I’m pregnant even if it’s too early?”

The doctor and nurses clutched around her in the ER looked stricken. They all stopped what they were doing. Tae-eul tried not to sob or hurl-- she didn’t know which one was making her stomach churn and her throat tight. Luna had stabbed her and that was… it was too horrifying to think of if she was... 

“How early?” the doctor asked, squeezing Tae-eul’s arm as if she knew Tae-eul needed the touch to ground her in the present. “How many days has it been since your period should have come?”

“Um, I think-- I think ten days--two weeks--” 

“All right. We’ll check.” The doctor turned to someone. “Run to the lab. Add the test to her vial. Prioritize it so we know what to do.” She turned back to Tae-eul. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you in the meantime as if you’re pregnant.” 

Tae-eul tried to stay awake, tried to wait to find out, but her detective’s brain had done its job and shut down. 

She woke up in her private room. Everything rushed back-- there was no pause, no blinking into consciousness, only instant, real fear which she didn’t even understand. Her heart rate sped up. She looked at the tube curled and attached on the back of her wrist, followed the line to the bags on the stand. What was in those bags? Was she--

“Hi Lieutenant Jeong. It’s me. I’m Dr Bong.” Tae-eul turned at the voice and recognized the kind intern or resident who had treated her in the ER. “You’re all right. Thankfully, there was no major trauma, and you avoided a laceration on your liver by two centimeters.” 

The intern paused and smiled hesitantly. “You are not-- were not-- pregnant.” 

Just like that, Tae-eul could breathe again. The doctor seemed to understand. She reached out to pat Tae-eul’s hand. “You’ll be fine. You’re on antibiotics and opioids for the pain.”

Tae-eul wiped the tears she didn’t even realize had tracked down her cheeks. “Gomapseumnida.” 

The doctor nodded, smiling. “If you’re hungry, you can eat. We’ll bring you food in a little while.”

Tae-eul thanked the doctor again and turned her head to look out the window. She tentatively felt her side-- stiff with thick bandages. There was a sore, tender feeling deep beneath the skin, nothing like the pain she’d felt when she was stabbed, but still painful even if it was currently a dull pain. 

Not pregnant. _Was not pregnant_. Good. That was really good. She had plans for Luna, and Tae-eul was relieved she didn’t have to kill Luna, because she would have if Luna had-- 

It would be ridiculous to-- she sighed, swallowed, and tried to stop her lips from trembling. It was ridiculous to _want,_ to _love_ a-- 

She didn’t even know where Gon was. 

_She didn’t know where Gon was._

That was _exactly_ the reason the possibility of being pregnant had both terrified and comforted her. 

If she never saw him again, she wouldn’t be alone, wouldn’t really be without him, if she had a-- 

She couldn’t even mention it in her head. 

She sighed. She swiped at her eyes and appreciated that the hospital people had placed her phone within easy reach. She dialed. 

“Hyeong-nim. Where are you? I need you to find the other me. Luna. I’m fine, I’m good. Okay. Good. I’ll come.” 

Tae-eul was glad for her detective’s brain anyway. It can compartmentalize. First, get out of bed. Then, get Luna. 

And if Gon came back to her, she wasn’t letting him go. 

\--------------------------------------

**June 2020:**

She very vividly remembered the weekend she had called their life a melodrama. 

It was one of those May days that made you sure of summer. It wasn’t wet, and it wasn’t cold. 

That was also the first time they were sent to present-day Corea-- since the reset anyway. 

That was also the time Gon told her about Kang Shin-jae, the real Kang Shin-jae in the Republic. She’d cried. She had missed him. The Shin-jae she’d known became Kang Hyeon-min of the kingdom and she remembered and missed him. 

That May night in 2020, Gon told her that he had met Kang Shin-jae, had actually changed Shin-jae’s life by delaying his walk to that deadly curve in the street. And then Gon had later seen him, a chaebol heir with all the trimmings, bowing underlings and chauffeured luxury vehicle. So that was what his life was meant to be. She had embraced Gon in tears and was truly glad the manpasikjeok also made that right. 

“I think that’s the last time we went to the past,” Gon had said, smiling ruefully at her tears. 

“No, no, we went to 2016, too. I think that’s the last.” 

“Oh, you’re right. But that was a bust, wasn’t it? We didn’t do much. Well, we did a little.”

She’d giggled while swatting at his hand, which had burrowed under her pajama top to stroke her back earlier while she cried, and now started wandering. 

They’d arrived at the kingdom of 2016 and they had stayed in his study, with Gon distractedly signing off on the various petitions on his desk. She had protested at how careless he was being, but he showed her they were harmless, miscellaneous documents that really only needed the king’s signature, referrals and recommendations and certificates of merit. 

And then, back on that night in May 2020 while recalling their trip to 2016, Gon had stopped moving and stared at her. “I suddenly remember one of the papers I signed. Unless I’m mistaken, I think I signed Koo Seo-gyeong’s recommendation to the Interpol.” 

_“Really?”_

Gon looked incredulous, amazed. “I can see it clearly in my mind’s eye now, but it didn’t register with me at the time. You were distracting. You laid down on that chaise by the fire and I wanted to get to you.” He grinned at her unimpressed expression. “Is that what we were meant to do that time? Because I usually don’t sign those documents. I just grabbed random stacks of papers from Secretary Mo’s office for something to pretend to do in the study.” 

“What do you mean you don’t sign them? So those people who need your signature usually go without?”

“We have stamps. Secretary Mo’s staff just use stamps. Those papers don’t even go to me. I’m not really needed..” 

“Ahh.” Tae-eul smiled. “Well, don’t be too full of yourself. I’m sure your signature didn’t matter much. Seo-gyeong is too cool not to get into Interpol.” 

Gon grinned. “You know what else? Kang Hyeon-min followed her there.” 

“Wow. They make a cute couple.” 

And Gon had made an unimpressed face that made her laugh and tickle him with her own hands under his pajamas. 

So that May weekend was memorable for her. It was full of revelations. 

It was also the last time she had her period. It was June now. She should have had her period over a week ago. The only time she was late, it was understandable because she’d been running on high levels of anxiety. 

Otherwise, her cycle had always run like clockwork. She’d been feeling some tenderness so she thought her period might come today. She had just come into Gon’s bathroom to check again. She looked down at her clean underwear. Nothing. 

Maybe tomorrow. 

She left the bathroom lost in thought. She didn’t register the childish chatter she could hear so she gasped when she rounded the corner and something collided with her knees. 

“Noona!” 

“Look who’s here,” Gon said belatedly. 

Tae-eul chuckled and went down on her knees so she could hug little Woo-jin at his level. He was at that age when he didn’t appreciate being scooped up any more-- except when he wanted airplane rides and piggy backs. 

“Are we kidnapping you again?” Tae-eul asked, pinching those cheeks. Woo-jin laughed. It was an inside joke between the three of them, _kidnapping_ Secretary Mo’s son and escaping from the palace. 

“Yes, yes! Let’s go kidnapping! Let’s go bounce!” 

Tae-eul looked up at Gon, laughing. “Did he just use slang with me?” 

Gon knelt down beside her, grinning. “He means Vaunce. It’s a trampoline park. You want to go?” 

Tae-eul looked between them, and Gon imitated Woo-jin’s pouty-pleading face. She couldn’t help laughing. “Let’s go bounce then!” 

Gon changed into his incognito outfit. T-shirt, light denim jacket, jeans. He also washed his hair to remove the mousse and let his hair dry just lying naturally on his head. 

Then he changed Woo-jin into a similar outfit. Secretary Mo liked dressing her son like a little prep school boy, and in previous kidnappings, he and Tae-eul had to buy Woo-jin clothes he could play in. 

Tae-eul had changed too. Her detective outfit-- her usual shirt, vest, jacket and boxy jeans combo-- didn’t fit a trampoline park, so she picked skinny jeans and a pullover she wouldn’t have to keep hold of if she decided to go all out on a trampoline. 

“Right, Yeong says the getaway car’s on its way to pick us... up--” Gon trailed off, looking from Woo-jin to her, and smiled that boyish smile she loved. “You look nice.” 

She wrinkled her nose. “Maybe we should cut your hair.” 

Gon looked exasperated. He picked up Woo-jin. “There. See? Here’s my disguise.” 

Woo-jin giggled. 

They were off, and Tae-eul tried not to be nervous. Being out in the open in present-day Corea made her feel exposed. But thankfully Gon’s disguise worked. The first time it worked they were so stunned they laughed for three minutes straight, disbelieving that it was that easy. 

It was ridiculous but it was effective. Sans bodyguards and trademark hair and long coats, and with Woo-jin in his arms, Gon didn’t look like the king. No one expected it would be the king. They had gone about their day in Busan without anyone making a fuss. 

Or Coreans were simply not too nosy about other families. 

That made her stomach flutter. She knew how they looked. Gon knew how they looked. Woo-jin even called them Omma and Appa in these kidnappings, so they wouldn’t be “caught by the police.” It was part of their inside joke. 

Gon smiled at her in that happy, satisfied way, tucking her against his side with his other arm while holding Woo-jin in the other as they walked from the car-- an ordinary car he drove himself-- to the park. 

Then they were inside and Tae-eul laid a hand on Gon’s arm when he was buying the tickets. 

“What is it?” he asked.

The smell of rubber and disinfectant spray, the noise from the kids, and the colorful interior of the indoor park all churned inside her head, making her chest pound, because a single thought stood out starkly like a big monument amid the swirl of color and sound. 

“Omma--” 

Woo-jin’s voice-- and what he said-- brought Tae-eul back. Her heart was still racing. 

“What is it?” Gon asked again, looking concerned now. “Are you alright? Do you want Viewing Only?” 

Tae-eul shook her head, as much to clear it as to answer Gon. “Of course not. I’m fine. Sorry. Go ahead. Let’s bounce!” 

There was no way she wouldn’t be okay bouncing on a trampoline park. Even if-- even if she were-- it was too early, and she knew women did so much more and they were fine. 

_God._

\-----------------------

Gon turned down the blankets for her and then immediately caged her with his arms and legs, maneuvering her to face him with her head pillowed on his upper arm. 

“What’s wrong? You’ve been distracted all day.” He stroked her hair and cupped her cheek, fingers gently stroking her ear.

Tae-eul stared into those eyes, looked at that face, sank further into his arms, and forgot why she was scared in the first place. 

“I need to take a pregnancy test.” 

She watched his face and loved what she saw there. The movement of his eyes and cheeks and lips made her heart speed up and she felt like she’d been jumping on trampolines again. He was surprised. He was stunned. He wasn’t unhappy. He opened his mouth but nothing came out at first. Tae-eul waited. 

“Are you-- do you-- how do you feel?” 

And Tae-eul fell more deeply in love with him than ever. In her head, she’d imagined him saying or asking so many other things, his scientific brain demanding facts, but no, the first thing he asked was how she felt about this. 

She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled her face against his chest, kissing him there through his pajama top. 

When she spoke, everything she’d been holding back all day spilled out. The one big thought that had haunted her all day, until now. “I didn’t want to go on the trampolines-- I just suddenly realized it when we were getting tickets. It suddenly terrified me if it might hurt the-- but lots of women do much more while they don’t know they’re-- and I’m still okay and--”

His arms tightened around her. She felt the shudder that ran through him. She stroked his back to soothe him and he mirrored the action, and kissed her hair. 

She knew he understood. _That_ was how she felt about this. She didn’t even know yet if she was really-- but she was already terrified about hurting it. 

That was all that mattered, that was the important thing, that she hadn’t hurt it. 

Everything else-- the fact that they lived in different worlds-- it was all inconsequential. 

“We’ll go first thing tomorrow,” he said, his voice a little gravelly. 

She nodded against him, and they fell asleep like that, after what felt like hours of just quietly holding each other. 

\--------------------------------

They went to a clinic in the republic. He helped her look for a specialty clinic with its own lab, so they wouldn’t have to wait days for the results. He was adamant that they didn’t go to an outright hospital with an OB-gyne department, because she would have been unnecessarily “exposed to something.” 

The OB was a cute woman with a bob. Tae-eul liked her immediately. She explained the options to Tae-eul, and Tae-eul chose the blood test without waiting for the doctor to finish explaining the vaginal sono. 

The doctor laughed but said she understood. No point having to go through that when Tae-eul hadn’t even taken a home PT. She wanted the blood test to give her a definite answer. So Tae-eul peed in a cup and her blood was taken and that was it.

They did have to wait two hours so they could have the results of the urine and blood test together. They went to a cafe and sat in a booth tucked away near the back. 

“Let’s not get our hopes up.” 

He grinned and took her hands, just wrapping his fingers over hers around her mug of hot chocolate. “So you hope for it, too, do you?”

She shook her head at him and tried to stay rational. “We’re careful. The chances are point zero zero three percent.”

“I’ll take those chances. We’ve always been exceptional.”

Tae-eul just looked at him sardonically. He laughed. 

They ordered food and ate, talking about everything else but what they were waiting for. 

They both knew they couldn’t discuss anything yet until they knew. 

And Tae-eul was glad about having him this time, anchoring her, being the giddy one so she could be the calm one, and she was able to eat just fine, all her nerves calm and steady because he was there with her and everything would be just fine. 

That she wasn’t pregnant was an anticlimax she didn’t know what to do with. 

They’d thanked the doctor and she had smiled at them. “Keep trying! It won’t take long. I hope to see you again and give you the good news.” 

They got in the car and just sat there for a few moments, with Gon looking at her and her looking at her hands in her lap. 

“Tae-eul?” 

She looked at him and smiled. “Let’s go back to the bamboo forest.” 

He seemed to understand--he always did-- and started the car without pressing her further. 

Tae-eul leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, meditating on what she’d just discovered about herself, and what it meant for them. 

The rest of the drive to the bamboo grove, they stayed silent. At some point, Gon reached for her hand and brought their hands up to stroke her cheek for a moment. 

“Saranghae.” 

She enclosed his hand with both of hers, resting their hands on the center console and turning to him a little without opening her eyes. She smiled. “Nado.” 

When they sat on a bench in the bamboo grove, Tae-eul was resolved. 

Since she met him she’d had to take several leaps of faith and he had always proven worth it, everything about him was real, true, pure-- well, not pure, because she’d seen him kill and purity wasn’t important anyway-- and he was home to her. _He was her home_ and they were both living and loving this strange and wonderful fate but she was ready if that fate meant so much more. 

She wanted so much more. 

She’d been through this twice now and both times had shown her what she wanted, what her heart absolutely ached for each time it happened. 

She looked at him and she didn’t have to tell him to look at her because he already was, peering at her face, looking worried. She smiled and smoothed her thumb on his forehead. 

“Don’t look like that. I’m fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

She nodded. She took a deep breath. She placed both hands on his shoulders, then slid them up and cradled his cheeks, squishing them and making him grin before moving her hands to that jawline she loved so much. 

“Lee Gon. Here’s the thirteenth rule. If we ever get married, I’ll stop being on birth control and let’s just see where that takes us. Are you alright with that?”

He blinked at her and in a matter of two blinks his eyes sparkled with unshed tears. She smiled and felt tears run down her own cheeks. He wiped them and then just held her cheeks, too. They probably looked ridiculous to passersby but she didn’t care. 

“Well,” he said, then exhaled and took a deep breath. He slid his arms around her and held her tightly. “Well, I always follow your rules, don’t I?” 


	6. The Queen's Horse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The king has a gift.  
> The queen has one, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Companion to: ALL COREA NEWS pieces pertaining to the Royal Baby.  
> Companion to: ALL COREA FICTION alluding to the Royal Baby (Seo-Ryeong vs Lady Noh, Three Hours for Chicken, His Majesty's Favorite Color, and the previous chapter here, The Thirteenth Rule)
> 
> An anon on Tumblr sent an Ask about Tae-Eul having her own horse.  
> And I answered that she does have one.

“What are you grinning at?” 

Gon kept grinning, then tried to tone it down a little when she started tying her hair. 

“And why am I wearing this?” Tae-Eul gestured to her riding habit, which matched his. But hers was red. She looked good in red. She looked… good. So good. Sometimes he forgot how tiny her waist was. It punched him in the gut every time he saw it. 

He saw it every night, ran his hands over it as much as he could get away with, and it still wouldn’t fail to gobsmack him that his wife, his  _ wife _ , was utter perfection.

Even when she flapped her hands too near his eyes. He chuckled, caught her hand and put chopsticks in it. 

“Please eat your breakfast so you don’t kill me. And to answer your questions, I’m grinning because I’m looking at you. And you’re wearing that because I’ll show you something.” 

She scowled at him but began eating. “I only wore this because the court maid looked ready to cry if I didn’t. And I’m not going to ride.” 

“You haven’t even seen her yet.” 

She just looked at him in that half-smiling, half-chiding way when he was like a kid showing off his horses, and kept eating. 

When they were done, he took her hand and led her to the stables. It was a long walk, her hand squeezing his in reflex whenever they met someone and that person stopped and bowed. 

She no longer stopped and bowed in return. Just squeezed his hand and let him know in secret of her lingering discomfort at that seeming lack of courtesy. But she had learned not to bow because if she did, they just bowed again, and lower. 

He felt her relax when they were finally out on the grounds. She even leaned on him and hugged his arm with her other hand. 

That was why he loved these walks so much. Loved seeing her small smile as she looked at the view and just relished the sun on her face. Loved the way her eyelashes fluttered on her cheeks, and the pink that soon rose in those cheeks and her nose from the exercise, the sun or the cold. Loved the feel of their legs brushing in each step. Loved that she kept up with him, although he always made his gait shorter when he walked with her. 

And maybe he’d done something good with breakfast, because she looked happier today. Or maybe all the camaraderie with Yeong and Jangmi, Seung-ah and the guards had worked in helping her settle here. She was even friends with the Prime Minister. 

He found that amazing. She was amazing beautiful perfect-- 

When he tripped on a huge pebble on the gravel path, she tightened her grip on his hand and arm and looked at him like he was an idiot she was fond of, but an idiot just the same. “Look where you’re going. I can’t save you if you fall flat on your face or butt. You’re too heavy.” 

He looked around and hoped the guards hadn’t seen that. And of course she saw him doing that and laughed. 

When they arrived inside the stables, the grooms were bringing out Maximus and the Hanoverian dark bay from their stalls. They stood almost at the same height, although the Hanoverian was one hand shorter than Maximus. 

He only looked at the horses for a second. His eyes were on Tae-Eul, and he grinned when he saw her face go a little slack. Even with the other horses they had, the Hanoverian was still impressive. She had a dark coat that glimmered black, brown and dark red all at once. 

“You really got a new horse?” she said, letting go of his hand to take a closer look. “She’s beautiful.” 

Gon nodded at the groom to bring the Hanoverian closer, then took hold of the lead himself. He stroked the horse’s deep brown cheek. He had watched her grow up from a little filly. He had bought her on the spot when he’d seen her four years ago. 

He just hadn’t known then that she wouldn’t belong to him. He looked at Tae-Eul as she also brushed her hand on the horse’s cheek and neck. 

“Do you want to name her?” he asked.

She looked at him like she thought he was nuts. “What do I know about naming horses? You got her.  _ You  _ name her. But choose a good name this time, a lady’s name.” She scrunched her nose up at him. 

He laughed. “I was a kid when I got Maximus so she never really had any luck with her name. And this one’s not mine. She’s yours. So we can ride together.” 

She turned to him and he was surprised at the expression on her face. She looked torn and contemplative, as if he’d made a mistake and she was trying to assess whether to blame him or not. 

When she looked around them, the grooms took that cue to not just retreat further, but to leave the stables and leave them alone. It registered to him that his--their-- people were already so attuned to their new queen, even as his brain whirred inside his cranium trying to think if he  _ had  _ made a mistake. 

She’d always joined him riding on Maximus. He had even taught her the basics and she’d learned so fast-- too fast-- that he had to warn her about the dangers of galloping away so she wouldn’t do that without him. 

She was looking down now, absently stroking the Hanoverian’s withers. 

When she spoke, it was so soft, he almost didn’t catch it. “Gon, I can’t ride.” 

“What do you mean you can’t? You can. You have. I taught you.” 

Still speaking softly, she said, “I haven’t had my period since June.” 

He opened his mouth to speak but only air came out. June was-- June was when they’d gone to the republic and had her pregnancy test done. 

“I haven’t taken birth control since. We got married. And the doctor said periods might stop-- your body resets or resyncs or something. And if you’re trying to have a baby it might take some time, more or less. But if you only used birth control for a short time--”

He gently took her shoulders and turned her to face him, because he needed to look at her to digest this. What-- what was she saying? 

“Tae-Eul. Are you saying you might be pregnant? And that’s why you won’t ride?” By the time he finished saying that he could feel a grin threatening to split his face. She was wonderful. He remembered the fierce protectiveness she also had when she’d thought she was pregnant back in June. 

And then she answered him and he lost air again. 

“I am.” 

“I’m--” He blinked several times, squeezed her shoulders. “I’m confused at what you’re saying you are. You mean  _ you are  _ saying you might be pregnant and so you shouldn’t ride? Or you are--” 

_ “I am _ pregnant.” 

He just stared at her. 

She clutched at the ends of his riding coat, gripping his waist as she seemed to get her thoughts in order. “Seung-ah gave me an entire year’s supply of pregnancy tests when she found out we weren’t on birth control. She said I should take one whenever I miss my period for the month. And I looked it up online and if you get a positive result it means you’re about two weeks along and I got a--” 

She paused, swallowed, and bit her lips because they were trembling-- “My period should have come two days ago but it didn’t. So I tried the test earlier and got a positive result. Six tests. All positive.”

So that was why she’d taken so long in the shower. By the time she finished talking, she was breathing a little hard and looking a little vulnerable, a little emotional, so Gon couldn’t do anything else but pull her into his arms. And kiss her, of course. He kissed her wet eyelids and cheeks, caressing her face and just… staring at her. 

She was unreal. 

She slapped him lightly on the chest and then held on to his hands. “I was going to tell you today and you ambushed me with a new horse.” She laughed. 

He smiled, but he still couldn’t breathe properly. He could hear his heart in his ears. It was racing and thumping that hard. 

“You’re pregnant,” he said, and his voice had gone as soft as hers when she first spoke. Now he understood why. This… this was something sacred you didn’t want to disturb with noise. 

She nodded against him, leaning her head on his chest. It was rare that she was like this, clingy and tender. It made him tighten her arms around her. But not too tight. 

“We still need to have it confirmed. But maybe we can keep it to ourselves for a bit.” 

He nodded, and then frowned. “What do you mean keep it to ourselves? We need to take care of you.” 

She looked up at him ruefully. “I know that. I’m just a little scared-- What will Lady Noh do to me?” 

Gon still couldn’t laugh, but he grinned wider. “All right. I’ll take care of you. We’ll go to the doctor. I have a family friend I haven’t seen in awhile. She’s my noona-- she’ll be discreet.” 

She sighed and just softened further against him. “I didn’t know it would happen this fast.” 

And just like that, it suddenly hit him then. 

She was going to have a baby. They were going to have a baby. She was giving him yet another gift. First, her presence beside him. As queen. As his wife. As his best friend. And now, a child. A child who belonged to them. 

He tucked his head on top of hers and kissed her hair. He was crying-- and if he had any thought and feeling to spare, he would have been embarrassed. But he didn’t. There was only Tae-Eul and this… this gift. He could feel his mouth distorting and he saw a couple of tears land on her hair. 

She must have felt him trembling, because she moved in his arms and she was holding him now.    
  
“Don’t be so dramatic. We weren’t exactly lazy in getting this done.” 

The twisting of his mouth stopped and Gon grinned, bending his body to bury his face against her neck. The gentleness in her hands as she stroked his cheek, neck, and ears belied the playful sarcasm in what she said. She knew what this meant to him. 

He had always been alone. Without a family. And now he had her. And this… this sacred wonder between them. 

He was suddenly all right with keeping it a secret for a while. It felt right. It felt too precious to let anyone else touch it. 

She wiped his tears and peered at his face, stroking his cheek. “Are you happy?” 

It was his turn to look at her like she’s an idiot he was fond of, but an idiot just the same. He pressed his lips to hers, felt them both smile against each other. He stood tall and hugged her close. “So happy I’ve forgotten what we’re doing here. What are we doing here? Who’s that horse beside Maximus?” 

She laughed and he saw her press a kiss on his chest over his riding habit. “That’s the queen’s horse, apparently.”

He gently swayed with her in his arms, and suddenly he had enough air to laugh. So he did. Against her hair while she also squeezed him. 

“I love you so much.” 

“I know. Me too.” 


	7. The Towelette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Standalone but ties in with Corea News Chapter 12: Love in the Royal Kitchen

Gon woke up when he felt Tae-Eul squeeze his arm. Painfully. 

He moved to tap the lamp on his side of the bed but he couldn’t reach it, not with them in the middle of the huge bed and Tae-Eul clutching his other arm. “What’s the matter?” 

He got no answer. His eyes adjusted and he saw Tae-Eul propped up on the headboard with her eyes closed tightly, not moving. He would have thought she was asleep and having a nightmare if she wasn’t propped up and still squeezing his arm rhythmically. 

They hadn’t closed the drapes and he was thankful for that. His eyes adjusted further in the dim light from the sky slowly lightening to the gray of dawn, and he could now see Tae-Eul’s throat moving. 

She seemed to be... swallowing? And from the movement of her chest and shoulders, she seemed to be taking deep breaths. 

Then it hit him. 

Moving carefully, he dislodged his arm from her grip and very gently got off the bed, making sure he didn’t shake the mattress. Once he had both feet on the floor, he ran to the en suite and grabbed the wastebasket under the sink. It was metallic silver, with a new plastic liner. That would do. He grabbed a small towel on his way out. 

Back in the bedroom, Tae-Eul was still how he’d left her, stiffly lying there and swallowing and breathing. He turned on the light on her bedside table and carefully sat beside her. He put the wastebasket on her lap. “Here, yeobo. Don’t hold it in.” 

And she didn’t. She ducked her head over the wastebasket and heaved, twice, thrice, four times. He gathered her hair in one hand and tried to soothe her with the other, though he didn’t do much-- he didn’t want to irritate her with touch. 

The fifth heave was dry, and he winced when three more dry heaves followed after that. She took the towel to wipe her lips and he got up and poured water from the pitcher on her bureau. 

Her hand was shaking a little when he gave her the glass so he didn’t let go, helping her take two large mouthfuls to rinse her mouth and then a small sip to swallow. 

She gave him a tremulous, tiny smile when she was done and leaned back gingerly on the headboard again as he took away the wastebasket, but not too far away just in case. “I hate vomiting.” 

Her voice was small and sounded near tears. He wasn’t sure it was wise to pull her into a hug, so he settled on taking her hands. 

“You can’t hold it in, you know.” Now that it was over and the sound of her being sick wasn’t hurting his gut, Gon felt giddy. Because of what all this meant, of course. Something joyful and precious later on. And right now, it was hilarious. Trust Tae-Eul to try to hold back morning sickness. He didn’t dare laugh. 

“Well, I had to find that out for myself.” She sounded snappish when she said that, and Gon couldn’t hold back his chuckle. She slapped his arm. “I used to be able to hold it in when I got motion sickness on buses.”

“This is right on time like what Noona told us. You’re going on six weeks. She said this is when it starts. Are you feeling all right now?” 

Tae-Eul nodded, now stroking his arm and lifting his sleeve to check if she’d left any marks with her squeezing. When she saw none, she smiled up at him. 

She nodded in the direction of the wastebasket. “I’ll take care of that when I go brush my teeth. Come back to bed.” Song-eun had told Tae-Eul to wait at least half an hour before brushing or she’d only rub the acid from her stomach all over her teeth. 

Gon got up. “I’m doing it now, don’t be silly. I’ll be back. Do you need anything else from the bath? A cold towelette?” 

“That sounds good.” She smiled at him so sweetly Gon wanted to kiss her. He wasn’t doing anything. She was giving him everything. 

“Of course.” And he made a mental note to make sure he’d always get her a cold towel from now on. 

When he got back, she had fallen asleep, head now bent in a position he didn’t like at all. But she woke up when he touched her shoulders to adjust her. She giggled a bit. “Cold hands.”

He loved that she was in such a good mood, despite the rough start of her day. He could feel his own smile straining his cheeks a bit now. He didn’t care. 

“Here’s your cold towel.” But instead of giving it to her, he gently dabbed the towel on her cheeks, her neck, her forehead, where he knew it would be soothing after her being sick. And she let him, just leaning back and closing her eyes. 

“Are you going to do that every day?” she asked, her mouth moving in that pouty, teasing way that always made him want to kiss and nip at her lips. “Because if you won’t, don’t start now.” 

He didn’t bother answering that, only continued pressing the towel. Before her face got too cold, he stopped and put the towel on the bedside table, and then smiled again when he realized she was asleep now. 

He climbed back in bed and gently pulled her into his arms. He maneuvered the pillows so he could sit comfortably against the headboard himself, then wrapped Tae-Eul in his arms against his chest.

She squirmed a little to get one arm around him, settled her head more securely near his neck, kissed him there, and then fell back asleep. Outside the windows, the sky was pale gray, with a hint of red and orange starting to stain it in the horizon. Gon kissed Tae-Eul on her temple and closed his eyes. 

~ * ~ 

Lady Noh found them like that much later, and she smiled at the sight. She knew they were hiding something, and she knew exactly what it was. As if they could hide it from her. 

She took the towelette from the bedside table, checked if they needed anything else, and quietly went away. 

They were going to tell her today if she had anything to do with it. In the meantime, she’d go make ginger honey lemon tea. 


	8. The Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The turning point.  
> She had already said yes.  
> He only needed to hear it.
> 
> Ties in with Corea News Chapter 24, the story of the hug at the clock (photo in chapter)

“I’m here. How are you? Where are you?” 

Just like that, Tae-Eul felt the day’s tension leave her chest. She could breathe. She felt a smile tug at her lips but she repressed it because Kang Shin-jae was actually glaring at her for her audacity in answering the phone in his august presence. Jerk. 

She turned away from him and walked out of his office. She leaned against the wall and propped her foot on it, not caring if her shoe left that white wall less than pristine. She _hoped_ it did. 

She had missed Gon. They hadn’t been able to see each other last week either. She spoke softly, “I’m sorry, I’m still on that case. We have a breakthrough now. This might end soon. But I might not be able to leave yet.” And that frustrated her more than the case and the _helpful_ bastard in the office did. It was almost five. She should have wrapped things up by now if it weren’t for Mr. Uncooperative. 

“I can come to you. Maybe I can help?” 

Tae-Eul grinned, imagining Gon here facing off with Shin-Jae. “I’m sure you can. But this involves industrial espionage and they’re already iffy about letting us in on it. They want the investigation done by private firms. But their suspect is also our murder suspect so they need to cooperate.” 

And honestly, she didn’t want Gon here, not with this Kang Shin-jae’s brand of condescension. She needed leads, not bullfights. “Look, can you wait at the hotel? I’ll come as soon as I finish.” 

“All right. Saranghae.” 

“Nado.” She knew he was still on the line--he always was, always waited for her that way-- but she ended the call. Then jumped a bit when someone spoke beside her. 

“You expect me to trust you with this case when you take personal calls while on it?” 

Tae-Eul pursed her lips and slowly put her phone back in her pocket. Stupid pocket. When she finally found her pocket-- and when she felt like she wouldn’t snap at the civilian-- she looked at him and smiled. She hoped it looked like a smile. 

“Look, I understand your reluctance, sir, but I’d like to remind you that you might be this entire building’s lord and master but you’re not the boss of me. And you are not trusting me or my team with anything-- it’s our case too whether you like it or not. You need to cooperate if you don’t want us to charge you for obstruction of justice. Let’s get back to it, shall we?” 

They got back to it. Their warrant came and that gave them more leeway in requesting documents and other materials. She tried not to flinch whenever she felt Kang Shin-jae’s gaze on her. He was _Kang Shin-jae_ , the KIT Company’s vice-chairman and pain in the ass who wouldn’t let them have what they needed because it was entangled with the company’s current R&D project. 

He wore an expensive suit--something she could recognize by sight by now because of Gon-- and looked and acted like he owned the place, which he did. Everything about him was different. Definitely not her former hyeong-nim. 

“If you sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement, I’ll give you what you’re asking for. You. Just you. Not your entire team, or the NDA just dissolves itself.” 

Tae-Eul raised her eyes to heaven for the-- she’d lost count how many times. “As we told you already, sir, we can’t do NDAs. We might need to disclose something for the investigation.” 

“And we’re back where we started.” 

Tae-Eul smiled and bowed, gritting her teeth. She motioned for Jang-mi and the rest to drop everything. “Thanks so much for your time.” 

It was 10pm. Five hours of looking through files and getting nothing new except the confirmation that their suspect had killed their victim because the victim had found out what the suspect was doing. Typical motive. She could close this case if only she hadn’t come up against this wall that had the face of her former best partner. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful,” Kang Shin-Jae said, and Tae-Eul paused at the door, nearly walking into Jang-mi’s back, because they had all paused. 

She heard Jangmi’s stomach growl. She slapped the guy on the back in second-hand embarrassment. 

“I really am,” Kang Shin-Jae continued. Tae-Eul felt her heart soften a bit, because this man might not be her hyeong-nim--of course he wasn’t-- but he was a good guy. Just a little stiff about his R&D. Understandable enough. “I’ll let you know if we find anything of his whereabouts, or anything that might help you at all. If you go to the cafeteria, they’ll serve you dinner. It’s free. They’re open 24 hours so there’s no need to hurry.”

“Thanks. That’s nice of you.” She inclined her head at him, and he smiled and looked like he wanted to say something else, but she pushed Jangmi forward and followed him out. 

She just wanted to get to the hotel and to Gon.

She was tempted to attach the police beacon on top of her car so she could speed her way there, but she could use the drive to calm down. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to cases taking their sweet time. She was just… she missed Gon. 

Last weekend, this case had broken wide open with national news coverage. The victim had been a beloved teacher for decades-- with the nosiness to match, which got her in trouble-- and the public were rabid for blood. So Tae-Eul hadn’t been able to get away. 

She _missed_ Gon. 

So when she got to their suite and didn’t find him, all her frustration returned and she felt her eyes grow hot with tears. 

He had left a note on the counter. 

“I’m so sorry, nae sarang. I’m checking on something. If I’m not back and you find this note, it means I had to take care of it. I’ll be back tonight, or tomorrow morning. If you like, you can meet me at the obelisks around 6am. If that’s too early for a Sunday, just wait here. I’ll be here when you wake up. There’s dak-galbi in the microwave.”

She slapped the note back on the counter and went to shower, trying not to be furious that he hadn’t waited, that it had taken her five extra hours to get here, that he wasn’t here, and… 

She wished she could just go to him. 

She loved what they had but it grated at times like this. It grated so much that she couldn’t go to him or simply meet him at some late night restaurant whenever she got off work. 

And something she tried not to dwell on was the fact that if anything happened to him, she wouldn’t even know, unless Jo Yeong decided to have mercy on her and cross the worlds to tell her. If he could even use the flute at all. 

It always made her chest and stomach clench, and she tried not to think of it. They hadn’t talked about it yet, not when they’d just gotten together, in an unspoken understanding of not voicing what they feared. 

What was Gon checking on, and what was so bad about it that it had taken him away from her? Was he all right? 

She waited what seemed like all night. Before closing her eyes to fatigue, she looked at the clock: 2:14am. She woke up again around 4am. At that point, she got out of bed and dressed to go home. She was too wired. She could use a workout at the dojo before heading to the bamboo grove. 

* * *

  
  


When two hours came and went without Tae-Eul coming through the door and without a phone call, Gon sighed and pinched the nerve flicking between his eyes. 

This was one of those times he really hated that he lost Jo Eun-sup in this new timeline. Gon had no one to call to ask about Tae-Eul. He couldn’t ask her dad-- Gon had tried that once and lost three hours to samgyupsal. 

He turned on the TV and flicked through the channels, stopping on the evening news when he thought he saw Tae-Eul-- and it was. Tae-Eul and Jangmi and two other detectives enter Kang Shin-jae’s building. The footage wasn’t the best but he’d recognize her anywhere. 

And it was Kang Shin-jae on the news. Well, his company. A source had leaked to media that the recent murder case in Jongno was linked to KIT Company. The suspect was a former employee. 

The news cycled through its short footages. Gon saw the blurred and yellow-taped murder scene, the Jongno police station facade, the KIT building exterior, and then that footage again of Tae-Eul and her team in plain clothes entering the building this afternoon, confirming the news item’s claim that KIT Company was connected somehow. 

Gon turned off the TV. He took a deep breath and also tried to turn off his returning and now absolutely ridiculous resentment of Kang Shin-jae. 

He didn’t resent the man. Why would he? He went to the kitchen and fixed something. It was a good night for stir-fry. He took too much satisfaction chopping the vegetables. 

When another two hours went without Tae-Eul, Gon was at the end of his patience. 

He didn’t like what he was feeling. It was ugly and making his jaw clench and he didn’t want Tae-Eul to come to him in this state. She didn’t deserve it. 

So he dashed off a note and left before he changed his mind or decided to do anything stupider, like go to the KIT building. 

Back at the palace, a couple of court maids dissolved into tears when they made the mistake of getting in his way. He had only looked at them venomously, but that was apparently enough. Lady Noh should hire women with more backbone. He snorted. Lady Noh said nothing and only looked at him in reproach. But she didn’t pry. She did bring in a plate of petit fours. 

He ignored them and carried on working until he realized the light in the room had changed. His neck was stiff and his eyes were sticky and fuck it all, it was a quarter to five a.m. 

He’d told Tae-Eul she could meet him or he’d go to her at six. 

He stood in the shower and tried to get his thoughts in order. He turned the water cold because there was a heat in his chest he couldn’t dislodge. He hadn’t seen her last weekend and this one was nearly over and here he was wasting time feeling what? Grouchy that he hadn’t seen her? How old was he, fifteen? 

Jealous that she’d spent half the night with Kang Shin-Jae? 

Christ, it sounded ridiculous in his own head. Kang Shin-Jae was practically a stranger to her.

He was going to fix this. 

Secretary Mo was in his suite’s living room, just about to peer into his bedroom to see if he was done in the shower. Gon swore. “No.” 

“I’m sorry, Pyeha. A Japanese vessel apparently sank a Corean fishing vessel. They’re saying it’s an accident and they’ve rescued the passengers but now Japanese officers are trying to bargain for the release of our fishermen. The Minister of Defense is on the line, and the Minister of Foreign Affairs and the Prime Minister are also waiting.” 

Gon took the calls in his bathrobe. He asked questions and gave answers. If Secretary Mo noticed he was more curt than usual, she didn’t say anything. When he reached the Prime Minister, he only told her he trusted her completely and ended the call. 

Despite all that and Secretary Mo's matching terrifying efficiency, it was still already a quarter past seven when he finally came out of the obelisks. He found Tae-Eul seated in one of the benches in the grove. 

Glaring at him. And with dark smudges under her eyes. He knelt in front of her. “I’m so sorry. There was an incident that kept me. A Japanese--” 

“Let’s just go. And I’m tired. Maybe we can sleep for a bit?” 

Gon stroked the smudges under her eyes with both thumbs. “Haven’t you slept?” 

She pursed her lips, which she did when she chose not to say what was on her mind, still looking at him darkly but her expression softening by the second. “You look like you haven’t either.” 

That just reminded Gon of his idiocy. He was furious with himself. 

He took Tae-Eul’s hand and stood up, gently pulling her with him. She leaned on him once she was on her feet. His chest tightened with love for this woman and he tucked her against his side with his arm. He walked them toward the obelisks. “We can sleep at the palace.” 

The manpasikjeok hadn’t sent them to any other time for awhile now, and he was glad it didn’t choose today to surprise them. Tae-Eul napped on the boat, and even with that she was still so sleepy, shielding her eyes from the morning’s sunlight when they docked and then made their way to the palace. 

By this time, Gon had devised a completely private and empty route to his chambers, so Tae-Eul didn’t have to hide as she half-walked, half-leaned on him, half-asleep with her cheek on his shoulder. She really was exhausted. 

If his guilt was a pinch before, it was a vise now, squeezing him. 

In his--their-- bedroom, Tae-Eul turned down the covers for herself, took off her shoes, then shimmied out of her jeans. He half-smiled-- those long, gorgeous legs would never stop taking his breath away-- and then tucked her in, bending over to kiss her on the forehead, her tired eyes, her nose, her cheeks, and finally, her lips. 

She kissed him back sleepily, her thumb anchored at his cheek and her fingers doing a lazy, gentle stroking on his neck. This was what he’d needed. He felt the vise in his stomach losing its hold, he felt silly about every other ridiculous thought that had passed through his head. 

But she was sleepy, and he drew back to look at her. Her eyes were already closed. Without opening them, she patted the space next to her on the bed. 

He was just about to get in when the phone in the living room rang. Tae-Eul winced slightly at the noise. 

“I’m sorry. That’s probably Secretary Mo. Something’s happened this morning.” 

Tae-Eul had opened her eyes now. “Is everyone all right? Are you all right?” 

Discounting my fit of idiotic jealousy? “Of course I’m alright, and our people should be,” he said. “Let me answer the phone. I’ll be back.” 

Except he wasn’t able to come back for twelve hours. 

* * *

  
  


Tae-Eul woke up to Lady Noh peering down at her from beside the bed, having gently shaken Tae-Eul awake. The old lady was also feeling her forehead and cheek now. 

“Are you ill? Why are you so sleepy?”

“No. Just sleep-deprived.” Tae-Eul realized she could smell food.  
  
“I brought your lunch. Come and eat.”  
  
“Where’s Gon?” 

Lady Noh no longer flinched at that, but she did look at Tae-Eul in sympathy. “He went with the Navy to try to intimidate those idiots into releasing our people.” Lady Noh picked up the tray and placed it before Tae-Eul before she could protest. “Eat. Then sleep some more.” 

Tae-Eul groaned at how the older lady was looking at her. “Lady Noh, I’m not pregnant.” 

“We don’t know that,” Lady Noh said, then she smiled impishly and left, leaving Tae-Eul blushing on the bed. 

Gon hadn’t even slept yet. She knew that sleep-deprived look. She reached for her phone--in this world-- and called him. He answered immediately. 

“Have you just woken up?” 

“Like a ba-- yes, I did. Are you on your way back?” 

“That’s what I want to know myself,” he said, his voice snappish, something she had never heard before. “Can you wait a bit more?”

“It’s not like I have a choice.” 

“Yes, you do. You can cut ties with me.” 

“What?” She had said what she’d said as a joke. Waiting was like their brand. They waited for each other. She scratched her neck. But he was.... angry? And apparently he wasn’t done. 

“Yes. That case that took you away for two weekends now. Maybe you like that case so much because you get to spend it with Kang Shin-jae in _his_ palace.” 

Tae-Eul took the phone away from her ear for a second and stared at it in disbelief. Then she put it back. “I’ll talk to you when you’re making sense.” 

She hung up on him. That would teach him. 

She told herself she was amused and not… not angry. 

She vented it on her food and mutilated her fish and side dishes before eating them all because feeling like this made her hungry. 

Lady Noh came back and seemed inordinately satisfied with her spotless bowls. Tae-Eul felt like pulling her hair. “Lady Noh, I’m not pregnant. What happened with Gon?”

Lady Noh would never sit down on the king’s bed, but she did lean a hip on it, since it was just at the right height. “We got news this morning that a Japanese boat had sunk a Corean fishing boat. Accident, they say, and they rescued everyone onboard. But then the Japanese Navy got ahold of them and someone in that godforsaken government is trying to use the fishermen as a bargaining chip. Ridiculous.” 

“They’re okay? The fishermen? No casualties?”

Lady Noh nodded. “It seemed too neat, if you ask me. Accident, my foot.” 

“What are they trying to bargain about?”

“Who knows. We have so much they want.” 

“Wait, you said you got the news this morning? Not last night?”

“Yes. Well, I don’t know. He was really furious last night. I thought it must have been because of this, because it kept him from you.” 

Tae-Eul blinked at the old woman, trying to make sense of what she just heard. 

When Lady Noh saw Tae-Eul wasn’t going to say anything else, she left with the tray. Tae-Eul got up from bed, went to her dresser, and put on silk pajama bottoms, and then unconcealed the television in the living room suite. 

Either the news outlets were less informed, or they were truly saying Corea only got wind of the “accident” this morning, and assuring the people that the Ministers of Defense and Foreign Affairs had acted quickly. 

The king was with them now to lay terms himself and act on the royal family’s long-standing promise to be the country’s first line of defense from foreign maneuvering and malcontent. 

So Gon must have had another pressing matter on top of this one? Add to being sleep-deprived and no wonder he was snappy. A fraction of her mind-- a tiny fraction-- was wondering if that other “pressing matter” was named Kang Shin-Jae, but since it was already making her eyes roll, she hoped not. 

* * *

“Yes. That case that took you away for two weekends now. Maybe you like that case so much because you get to spend it with Kang Shin-jae in _his_ palace.” 

His brain was already backfiring and imploding with warning even as his mouth actually finished saying all that. Suddenly, the railing of the navy vessel looked so inviting. He could hit his head on it. Or he could climb it and jump overboard and maybe the Pacific could knock some sense into him. 

“I’ll talk to you when you’re making sense.” 

The line went dead. 

Gon’s arm dropped like dead weight at his side and it was only thanks to his phone’s ribbed case that it didn’t slip from his slack hand. 

And he could see Yeong giving him his most judgmental side-eye to date. 

Gon closed his eyes. 

“I can’t believe you said that,” said Yeong quietly. 

Gon closed his eyes harder. “I need sleep. I need to get out of here. I need to go beg Tae-Eul to forgive me for what I said. I need to--”  
  


“Shut up,” said Yeong, more quietly. Gon turned around to see the Ministers of Defense and Foreign Affairs approaching. 

For the moment, he ignored the fact that his Unbreakable Sword had told him again to shut up. Gon straightened his back. “Everything to our satisfaction, gentlemen?” 

“Yes, Pyeha, they just want their own minister to arrive first and officially hand over the passengers.” 

“What?”

Minister Kim leaned back from Gon’s quiet growl. “They want to make it official. Since Your Majesty is here, they couldn’t be completely without a representative from their own government.” 

Gon was about to say he can bloody well leave when he realized he couldn’t, and shouldn’t. “Very well. Are they coming by air?” 

“By boat, Pyeja. I’m sorry for the delay. The minister apparently has an ear condition that doesn’t let him travel by air.”

“Then why is he coming in the first place-- why couldn’t someone else-- fine.” 

He was whining so he stopped. He looked at Yeong to get some sympathy but only got another glaring side-eye. 

“Go ahead, let me have it, then,” Gon said, when he and Yeong were alone again. 

“Pyeha, I’m sure nothing I tell you is worse than what your own head is already spewing. What did she say?”

“Only said she’ll talk to me when I’m talking sense.” 

Yeong nodded in what seemed like agreement and approval. 

Gon pressed his fingers against his eyes. 

“Can you really see yourself living with that option?” Yeong asked quietly, not looking at him but at the horizon. 

“What?”

“The one you told her. Breaking things off with you. Choosing Kang Shin-Jae in _his_ palace.” 

“You don’t need to quote me.” 

Yeong just cut his eyes at him. 

“No,” said Gon. “ _No_.” 

And that was it, wasn’t it? That possibility, that threat, no matter how implausible with Tae-Eul’s love for him, was enough to shake him and send him incoherent and mindless with rage. 

His jaw clenched. It would be so simple. Tae-Eul could have a good life with no complications, no obligations. She could have someone daily, not on weekends, and she could go to the man anytime she wanted, and they could have that domestic simplicity of living together, waking up together, every day. 

Everything Gon wanted but couldn’t give her at the present, not with their separate worlds and separate lives. 

He was a mathematician. His brain could see and calculate figures in an instant. Kang Shin-Jae was a better equation for Tae-Eul. He was in her world. That alone was a figure Gon couldn’t match. 

His phone buzzed in his hand, and it brought him outside his own head. 

The text message was short, to the point. Tae-Eul. With her amazing ability to read through him, apparently even across the ocean when he was at sea. 

His eyes stung. And he convinced himself it was the salt air. Not his profound awe of this woman fate had given him. 

_I love you. I’ll see you at the clock._

* * *

  
  


Lady Noh had brought Seung-ah over when Tae-Eul saw the latest update on the situation Gon was smoothing over, so both women heard Tae-Eul swear vehemently. 

She blushed. But they took it in stride. 

Seung-ah grinned. Tae-Eul thought the girl was just too fascinated with the king’s secret girlfriend just now. Lady Noh had wanted Seung-ah and Park In-yeong, who were sort of like her protegees, to know of Tae-Eul, because Tae-Eul needed it. 

It was like a shield against scandal: Tae-Eul had the highest court lady who was practically the king’s grandmother, the Royal Public Affairs Office, and the only female member of the Royal Guard, on her side. Tae-Eul saw the sense in it. 

And right now, she was thankful for it. 

“He’ll be stuck there for another five hours?!” she ranted. “They’re waiting for the Japanese Defense minister.” 

“They’re posturing. His Majesty soundly kicked their ass-ets again in this round,” said Seung-ah, adjusting her vocabulary when Lady Noh looked at her. “So they’re posturing to save face, making the king wait.”

Tae-Eul sighed. 

“Do you want to take a walk with me?” Seung-ah asked. “I can show you around and you can tell me more about your cases.” 

“Cases” often included questions about Gon, just bordering on invasive but never actually crossing the line. Tae-Eul was trained as a detective and she still learned questioning techniques from Seung-ah. 

“All right. I can’t stay here all day. Just let me get dressed.” 

Inside the en suite, she debated for a couple of seconds whether she should call Gon. She was worried about him, sleep-deprived and out on a ship under the sun and she wanted to let him know she was behind him one hundred percent, whether or not he was in some snit about Kang Shin-Jae. 

_Especially_ if he was in a snit about Kang Shin-Jae. 

But if she was in a snit and stuck somewhere she’d rather not be, she wouldn’t want him to bear the brunt of her temper either. So instead of calling, she should send a text. 

_I love you. Don’t worry about me. Don’t think about Kang Shin-Jae. You’re the only one I want and I’m happy to be right here with you even if you’re far away from me. I’m going out with Seung-ah. I saw everything on the news so I know you’re still stuck there. I’ll see you at the clock._

She frowned at that message and edited it to the most important bits that would actually accomplish what she wanted for him. 

She didn’t want him to think Kang Shin-Jae was still on her mind. She didn’t want him to dwell on the fact that they weren’t with each other right now, another weekend gone. She didn’t want him to worry, period. About the men in her world or her going out and about in his.

_I love you. I’ll see you at the clock._

* * *

It was dark and the clock was like a moon in the street when she saw his tall form coming toward her. Members of the Royal Guard were already scattered around them, probably long before she even saw Gon, which would explain the privacy and quiet they suddenly had, even in that public and much beloved part of the palace grounds. 

She stood up as he neared her and her arms came up almost of their own accord when she saw his face. When he pulled her into his arms, hers came around his waist, and she held him tight, feeling him shake a little and then go still as he sighed against her hair. 

She felt his hand cradling her head and heard him whisper, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.” 

She patted his back and squeezed him over his soft coat. “Of course you didn’t.” 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” 

“Will you be my queen? Will you let me be the one to fill your days?” 

He had asked her that question so many times now but Tae-Eul still felt her heart clench every time he did. She used her grip on his coat to push him a little so they could part enough for her to see his face, and for him to see hers when she said, “Not today.” And just before his face shuttered at her usual reply, she added, “But soon.” 

He didn’t smile like she’d expected, didn’t speak, only looked at her so intensely Tae-Eul felt her blood pound on her chest, neck and cheeks. 

When she was about to tug him at the waist again to demand he say something, he brought one hand to her cheek and said, “Do you mean that? Will it make you happy?” 

And Tae-Eul felt herself soften in his arms, felt her eyes brim with excess love for this man. Because when she said “Soon,” she’d expected him and his mathematician mind to ask, _When_?

But no, he was only-- he only ever thought of her happiness. And maybe she should, too. Her happiness and _his_. Because he deserved it. 

She nodded, nodded hard and with conviction because she was daring any gods out there to interfere. “Of-- of course it will,” and her voice trembled a little. So she cleared her throat and said more firmly, and simply, “Yes.” 

He smiled. 


	9. The Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tae-Eul had always wondered about something.  
> And like everything else, the answer was so simple. 
> 
> Also a companion to Corea News 13, 14 and 25-- All the ones with Gong Shin :)

They pulled apart and tried not to breathe hard enough to be audible to the other people in the cinema. Thankfully, there was plenty of space for privacy.

It was one of those luxury theaters with real armchairs rather than bucket seats, and it had been so easy for him to maneuver her chair so that she was mostly in his and one moment he was tucking her against his side, the next, he was kissing her and gently biting her lower lip and tasting and laving the sweetness of her tongue and-- 

They both remembered they were in public when someone in the movie screamed. 

Gon took measured breaths and then the ridiculousness of kissing Tae-Eul while the movie showed someone getting mutilated hit him. His deep breaths turned into snorts of amusement he tried to rein in. 

Tae-Eul must have felt him shaking with suppressed laughter. She looked up at his face and hers immediately broke into a rueful grin. She bit her lip and tried not to laugh. 

She lost the battle, covered her face with both hands, and hid her giggling against his chest. 

When she was done, they carried on watching the movie-- people trapped in a train with violently hungry non-humans inside and outside--without any more carrying on except for playing with each other's fingers. 

On a quiet part, Tae-Eul looked up at him again from her position against him, hugging his arm and with their locked hands in her lap. He’d caught her doing these glances for most of the movie, but she always chose to continue watching instead of talking. 

But now the movie was being sentimental, and Tae-Eul had said she hated crying in a public theater, so Gon knew she was going to finally let out whatever was on her mind. 

The last time she’d done a similar ambush, they were in Joseon, with lanterns of wishes rising all around them toward the sky. He'd thought she was going to ask what he had wished for, but she had asked him what he loved about her. 

He had said, “Do you want me to list them all?” 

She had wrinkled her nose, and he’d pointed at that nose. “ _That_ is one of them.” (She had just rolled her eyes and later, back in the republic, he had shown her everything he loved about her). 

So now he met her eyes and wondered what was about to come out of those lips. 

“Did you practice with guys?”

Gon choked on air and his own spit and had to cough for a minute. Tae-Eul helpfully rubbed and patted his back. 

“ _What_?” 

“Kissing. Or more. You were in the Naval Academy. You said I’m the only woman in your life.”

“There are women in the Naval Academy.” 

“Huh. So you had dated before?”

“No. It was the _Naval Academy_. No one had time to date." And because his head was still spinning at her first question, he said, “How can you ask that?” 

“What? That you dated before? It’s a valid ques--”

“No. That thing about practicing with guys.” 

“What’s wrong with it? People do that. Girls practice with girls. Boys with--” 

“You’ve done it?”

“No. I didn’t have any girl friends growing up. Not close enough anyway.”

Despite his discombobulation at Tae-Eul’s question, he found himself smiling ruefully. He still remembered-- and would always remember--little five-year-old Tae-Eul in her taekwondo uniform. Knowing what he now knew of her, he wasn’t surprised that she wouldn’t have fit in with girls-- well, regular girls. 

They were quite a pair. He hadn’t fit in either. He had his mates in crew, but that was it. He was still king, and he had been too busy to make any attempts to correct or broaden people’s first impressions of him. 

“Where did you go? Remembering your practice sessions?” Tae-Eul said impishly. The movie was back on its climactic march to the end, but apparently, they were no longer watching it. 

“I didn’t have ‘practice sessions.’ Of course I have no problem with it if that’s what people do, but it never appealed to me. And… I was lucky they respected my need for distance.” 

“What need for distance?” 

“I didn’t like people touching me.”

Tae-Eul sat up, but she kept hold of his hand. “What do you mean? You told me that before, the first time we met. I thought you were being prissy.”

He blinked. “Didn’t I tell you? There’s not much to tell. I didn’t like people touching me. You know, because of what Lee Lim did.”

She didn’t gasp in realization or anything dramatic like that. Her eyes just widened a fraction, and from the dim light of the cinema screen, Gon saw those eyes he loved so much shine expressively. 

Of course she didn’t know. She had always touched him, and he had always welcomed it. And his current valet and staff are years into the service. She had never seen him recoil from someone because no one else ever made an attempt to touch him like she does. When he did dodge Lady Noh when she had reached for him and his blood-stained face after that confrontation in Busan, Tae-Eul had been unconscious so she wouldn’t remember it. 

In this new timeline, he had no scar. But the memories--and the wounds to his spirit and mind-- remained. 

Tae-Eul looked at him another moment, then lifted her free hand and placed her palm against his neck, thumb stroking his jawline and her hand resting on his shoulder inside the collar of his shirt. “No one touched you like this?”

“No.” He debated on whether to elaborate that he couldn’t even wear a tie, but that might make her cry so he’d save that for later.

“No one kissed you before? You can kiss without touching.” 

He shook his head. “I couldn’t.” 

“But--” She pursed her lips. And Gon could feel his own beginning to grin. He had an idea where this was going.

“But?” 

“Both Seung-ah and Na-ri said if you could kiss so well, you had to have had practice.”

He grinned broadly even if she had stunned him a little again. “What? Both of them?” 

“And In-yeong too.” 

“Do you talk about us to everybody? Maybe the Prime Minister as well?”

Tae-Eul laughed. “Seo-ryeong said you probably kiss horribly and that’s why you wouldn’t kiss her.” 

“I hope you disabused her of that notion.” 

Tae-Eul nodded. She had that gleam in her eye when she was particularly vindictive or possessive, and she grinned. “Oh absolutely.” 

“Good.” 

“So?”

“So what?”

“Did you have practice? How do you-- how do you know how to-- why are you so-- Just tell me. You know what I’m trying to ask.” She slid her hand from his neck to his chest, slapping softly and glaring at his smug grin. He did know. He felt it every time she melted against him when he kissed her. 

He took a deep breath and told her the truth. The part of the truth that made him look good anyway, because those first few times when he had no idea what he was doing with her, he had felt like a fool. But he hadn’t really shamed himself, had he? “I’m just a quick study.” 

“What?”

“I kissed you, and I learned what you liked every time I kissed you. I also… extensively… read about it, about _everything_. There are certain techniques you don’t want to mess up--” he licked his lips to let her know what he meant, and he grinned when her cheeks went pink-- “but everything else was you. Just taking note of what you like. You’re always so delightfully transparent when you like something.”

He saw her swallow and then she leaned away from him in that bravado she always put on whenever she was discomfited. And she was. He could see it in her eyes and her cheeks and her lips. 

“I don’t believe you,” she said, tilting her chin defiantly. “And listen to how you talk-- you talk like a-- like someone who knows how to talk.” 

She still held his hand because he had tightened his fingers around hers, but their hands were in the space between them now. 

Gon invaded that space and put his mouth next to her ear. 

“Of course I know how to talk. I’m a king. I was trained in diplomacy and the art of influence. But--” he kissed the shell of her ear. “Again, talking to you comes natural to me.” 

“Natural, my butt. Don’t sound so pleased with yourself. You’re a dork.”

“I’m a what?”

She was laughing now, cheeks still pink but recovering. “When I told the girls about your zero and one line, we all laughed.”

Gon pressed his lips together and it was his turn to lean back. 

“I’m surprised at you. I wouldn’t have thought you’d talk about that. Haven’t you evaded Seung-ah’s questions for months?” 

She looked at him disdainfully. “This is what women talk about when we’re not discussing ruling the world.” And then she pouted. “And they were drunk and I wasn’t and I felt like getting back at you.” 

That made him laugh. “All right, then.” 

She was grinning now. “Yeong thinks it’s ridiculous, too.”

“Oh you talked to him too, did you? You and In-yeong and Seung-ah and Yeong? And maybe Jangmi too? Did Yeong tell you the guys went to _me_ for advice when we were in the Academy and then in the Navy?”   
  


She made a disbelieving face. “Really? Advice for lines?”

“Advice for their women, if you must know. Why are you so surprised? I may not like people touching me but I’m not emotionally stunted. I can’t afford to be stunted anywhere. I am well-read. It’s all common sense, anyway. It’s just looking at the situation from the other’s point of view and trying to be considerate. I don’t understand how idiotic people can be about love. Either they’re really clueless or they already know what to do but they need validation or confirmation about it? It’s ridiculous--” 

He stopped ranting when he saw Tae-Eul’s grin turning into that smile he loved, the one where she tilted her head and just looked at him so fondly with a closed-mouthed smile. “You and I agree on that.” 

“We do?”

She nodded, and she went back to his side, hugging his arm again. “I had to give advice about love, too. The guys asked me because I’m a woman. And the girls asked me because I’m… like a man? And I’d never been in a relationship.” 

He ignored that bit about her being like a man. He knew damn well how untrue that statement was. “Well, you’re married now, so you’re in a good place to give advice.” 

“I feel like it doesn’t count.”

“Why doesn’t it count?”

“You’re too good. You never give me any problems.” 

She was looking at the screen as she said that, but she sneaked a peek at him. He showed her how much he loved her for saying that, smiling and laying a kiss on her own smile. She pushed him off before he made it too heated like earlier. 

He smiled and kissed her temple. “I love you. Why would I give you any problems?”

“Dork. But seriously, are you telling me no one has pursued you? No one who made you curious enough to try a kiss or anything else?” 

“Well, when I was 20, I went to Argentina. I met the president Cristina Fernandez de Kirchner--”

“What? She kissed you?!”

Gon laughed. “No. Let me finish. We established trade. Anyway, she had this young aide-- by young I mean she was in her thirties-- and this woman tracked me down to my room at the embassy. I wasn’t there to sleep, I had a hotel, but they still gave me a room. I think the guards thought she had something for me from the president, and that’s what I thought as well--”

“Get on with it!”

Gon laughed. “She came in, gave me the key card to her room at my hotel, and that was it.” 

Tae-Eul looked at him disbelievingly. 

“Well, she couldn’t very well try anything because I had guards in the room with me.”

“Ugh. So did you go to her?”

“Of course not.” 

“But she made you curious? That was what I asked.”

“No, you asked if no one had pursued me, and aside from the Prime Minister, that aide fit the bill.”

“No one else? Didn’t you like anyone? You know, someone who had come to your room, and you sent the guards away or you already have before she even arrived.”

“Not really. That’s why JoGon was born. Didn’t Seung-ah tell you?”

He felt her shake with silent giggling against him. 

“What about you?” he asked. 

“What about me?” she said, without turning from the screen. 

“No dating? No previous kisses?”

“Please. I was pretty hard to impress. If I could flip them bodily to the ground, I lose all thoughts of wanting to kiss them if I even had any. And they always made me do that. It was like a rite of passage to those idiots to see if I can flip them.” 

Gon tried not to laugh, though he also felt a fraction of irritation that none of the idiots apparently saw Tae-Eul as a girl? As a woman? Maybe it was because of the clothes she’d grown up wearing? _Idiots_. Men were idiots who liked to pursue women whom they thought would easily worship them. 

But one did see Tae-Eul as a woman. One whose feelings apparently persisted despite the change in timelines. 

But Gon had learned not to think of him. 

So instead, he joked. “Whereas I’m pretty impressive, aren’t I?”

He was looking at her-- hadn’t stopped since this conversation began-- so he saw her sardonic expression, raising one eyebrow. “I could flip you to the ground so easily.”

He just laughed. “Not right now, you can’t. Although I wish you’d do it to Gong Shin. And let me be there to see it.” 

This time she did turn to look at him and glared at him without any real malice. The glare turned into another fond smile and she pressed their hands against her middle. It was still almost flat, but they both knew the little bean growing there. Growing healthily. 

They continued watching the movie just as the credits started to roll. 

  
  


* * *

Inspired by [ @di-elle’s post on whether or not Gon had dated before ](https://coreastories.tumblr.com/post/623566710096756736/lets-debate-has-lee-gon-dated-before-jte). This is my headcanon of it. 

I had several inner debates over how to present this story-- but in the end, I decided it had to be a talk between these two, not a story set in the Academy where I have to invent side characters we won’t really care about. Heh. That would have just made me lazy to write it. 

But this… this was finished so fast. Tae-Eul and Gon wanted to have this talk! 

Have I told you I love this fandom? Thanks, Dani!   
  
Thanks to everyone who leaves reviews. I remember your names and I bless all of you with the Key of Corea. I’m sorry I can't always reply to everyone. But I read and love your reviews. I just need to work too so I don’t get fired. :) 

(Oh, right, if anyone recognizes the movie: it's a rerun in that luxury theater. These two didn't travel in time).   
  



	10. Pieces of Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the time “not today” became “today,” the two of them already had it settled between them. They just needed to do the paperwork.
> 
> And then it was just a matter of asking the question again, and giving the unassailable answer again.
> 
> Follows "The Clock"  
> Connects to "That Situation"  
> Harks back to "The Thirteenth Rule"

“Thank you so much for your help.” Tae-Eul placed the box of files on Kang Shin-jae’s coffee table and stood up. That was this case done. She was glad it was over for so many reasons. 

“No, I’m the one who should thank you.” Kang Shin-jae stood up and shook hands with all four of them, leaving her hand last. “I appreciate all your effort on this. You were excellent.” 

“Thank you.” Tae-Eul smiled slightly. This Kang Shin-jae certainly improved on better acquaintance. 

“Maybe we can have dinner?” 

“She’s taken.”

“Jangmi!”

“Well, you are, sunbae. You go to him every weekend.”

Tae-Eul rolled her eyes. Before she could say anything else, Kang Shin-jae said, “Ahh, I was asking all of you, not Lieutenant Jeong. My treat.” 

Tae-Eul thumped Jangmi on the back when she saw him raise his eyebrows and smirk and open his mouth as if to challenge Kang Shin-jae. She said, “That’s awesome. Weren’t you saying you’re hungry, Jangmi?” 

She turned to Kang Shin-jae and gave a courteous dip of her chin. “Thanks again. I’ll have to pass on dinner. I have to eat with my dad.” 

She sighed in relief once she stepped out of the building and onto the street again. She was done with the case. The murderer was behind bars and she and her team had every loose end tied up so tight he wouldn’t slither out of this even with a very good slimy lawyer at the trial. She was free to do what she’d been meaning to do. 

On the way to the station, she weighed everything again in her head. She waited for some noise, some static, some confusion, but nothing came. Everything remained clear. And… quiet. Like when she knew that a case was resolved. There were no more details clamoring for attention, waving at her from the sides and corners like annoying little gnats. 

When she knew a case was finally done, everything just fell into their proper places. This felt like that. She felt it in her gut and she heard it in the peace in her head. 

Her heart was a different story. 

Her heart was beating like mad but that was normal, wasn’t it, when you were contemplating marrying the one you loved? 

Her heart drumming was almost like a constant these days. If she didn’t know better she would have gone to the doctor. 

Even during her catnaps, she always woke up with her heart drumming. She dreamed of a crescent moon. A moon like a sickle in the sky. Nothing that should have sent her heart racing, but it did. 

When she wasn’t dreaming of that crescent moon, she dreamed of rain. Heavy, but peaceful rain. It came straight down, with no wind to scatter the raindrops. It was the kind of rain you loved to listen to when you were snug under a blanket in your bedroom. 

And always, just when that rain was lulling her to deeper peace, her dream would shift to show a spider building a web over a precipice between two rocks. Right under that rain. 

But the rain seemed to do nothing to the web the spider was painstakingly building, except for decorating it with raindrops, sparkling like diamonds in the weak light.

Then she’d wake up with her heart going a mile a minute. 

She’d asked Na-ri about it and Na-ri had said she’d look it up. Apparently, dreams were messages from your subconscious, from your present circumstances, and they were even more accurate than palm reading and its nebulous predictions. 

Tae-Eul had no idea how a crescent moon, rain, and a spider building a web connected to her current decisions, but she hoped they meant good things, especially with Chief Park making that long-suffering face at her. 

“But why? You know I just automatically mark you eligible for rehire no matter how much headache you give me! And what about your pension? You’ll lose that. Ah-- I’ll have to fight to get you your unpaid OT and sick leave and vacation leave. Your benefits-- you lose that, too. Are you serious? Why are you doing this? What happened? I thought your case was done-- I thought you were happy?”

Tae-Eul winced sympathetically. “I’m sorry for how sudden this is. I’m aware that I’ll lose my pension. Don’t worry about that, Chief Park. You don’t have to push for my unpaid stuff either.” She nodded with conviction. “And yes, I’m done with the case, Chief. No dereliction of duty. No failure to intervene. It’s all good timing, see? I'm not leaving you with any headache at all."

Chief Park’s mouth was gaping now. He closed it. Then opened it again. Then closed it again. He ran a hand over his face. “You’re really serious about this?”

“I am.”

“Wha-- where are you going? Are you transferring? You don’t have to resign to transfer. I can arrange things for you-- It will be a pain in the neck but--”

“No, Chief Park, I’m not transferring. I just need to resign.” 

“What about your dad? He’s your beneficiary, isn’t he-- Are you sick? Is that why you’re resigning? Because you know we can--”

“He’s fine. I’ll take care of him. And I’m not sick. Thank you for worrying about me. Come on, Chief. This is my last request to you. Please accept my resignation.”

Chief Park groaned. He sat back on his chair and grimaced at her for a minute before he finally nodded and flapped his hand at Tae-Eul and his desk. He stamped her resignation letter and placed it on his out-tray. Then he looked at Tae-Eul expectantly. 

Tae-Eul placed her ID card on the desk. Her side-arm followed. That was it. 

That was all it took. She was no longer a detective. No longer a lieutenant. 

Chief Park was peering up at her. “How do you feel? Getting any second thoughts? We can just forget this piece of paper, you know.” 

Tae-Eul smiled. She shook her head. “No. I feel fine.” 

She cried in her car. 

The sobs were soft, too soft to even shake her shoulders, but they were still a complete contrast to the peace she’d felt before she’d turned in her ID. She’d wanted to be a cop all throughout her childhood. And she had been a cop for most of her adult life. She was either training for it, or doing it. It was a job but it was also simply her. Part of her. 

And now what? 

Just like that, she was calm again. 

She knew exactly what next. She smiled through her last tears and drove away. 

\----------------------------------------------------------

“He’s in Jeongno now. He transferred there.”

“Well, that makes things convenient. Let’s just use Jeongno then.” 

“Use Jeongno for what, Pyeha?” Yeong asked. 

Gon smiled. “I’m fixing that situation we talked about.”

Gon saw Yeong take a deep breath, then his friend made that slight nod that meant he approved. Gon grinned. To Yeong, anything was probably better than Gon disappearing and reappearing with a woman he and the Royal Guard had to hide. 

“Can you come with me? I’m going to Jeongno. Keep it quiet, but not too quiet.”

“What else do you need done, Pyeha?”

Gon clapped him on the back. “Nothing. I need to do this myself.”

Two hours later, Gon wondered if he should have taken up Yeong on his offer. He had to fight his discomfiture and remind himself Kang Hyeon-min didn’t know him. Didn’t know Tae-Eul. Didn’t know that Gon owed him eternal thanks for his part in Gon’s past and present. 

It was just-- Kang Hyeon-min was too much like the ‘Kang Shin-jae’ Gon had known. It was uncanny. He still looked sullen. He still looked like he didn’t think Gon deserved anything. Even as king. 

Kang Hyeon-min stood there and glowered a little and looked for all the world as if this small office in Jongno Police Station was his palace and Gon was an annoying subject. 

“Let me get this straight, Your Majesty,” Kang Hyeon-min said. “This woman is an undercover agent and you want us-- at Jongno-- to recognize her as one of us?”

Chief Park groaned. “Why did you have to repeat His Majesty? Of course we’ll do as you order, Pyeha. You didn’t even need to see us. I’m sorry you took the trouble.” 

Gon didn’t smile. He felt like Kang Hyeon-min would lose what little respect he had if Gon gave ground with something as innocuous as a smile. So with all the gravity he possessed, Gon said, “This is not an order, but a request. I know that it may sound like I didn't need to ambush your time today at all, but I did. The lady is very special to me personally, and she has done this country an immense service. You won’t have to lie to anyone. The Royal Public Affairs Office will take care of information and it will be understood that you can’t talk about it much. 

“However, I do request that you speak of her kindly, as if you really knew her. It will be assumed she belongs to a top-secret organization, but being with Jongno adds dimension to her cover. My presence here today also adds another element of truth to her connection with me, and to you.” 

Chief Park opened his mouth, probably for more obsequious assurance, but Kang Hyeon-min beat him to it. “What’s her name, Your Majesty?” 

“Jeong Tae-Eul.” And with his eyes locked on Kang Hyeon-min’s, he overturned and slid Tae-Eul’s official ID photo across the desk to show both men, along with the certificate that attested Jeong Tae-Eul had been employed by the Corean National Police Agency under the Ministry of Interior and Safety, from 2011 to 2020. 

As Gon expected, Kang Hyeon-min flinched. 

Gon said quietly, “You recognize her face, don’t you?” 

Chief Park said, “What? You know her?”

Kang Hyeon-min said without inflection, “She was with me in Haeundae. She’s in New Zealand Interpol now. Her name’s Koo Seo-gyeong.”

Gon nodded. He tapped a finger on Tae-Eul’s photo. “This is Jeong Tae-Eul. It’s either a doppelganger case of two people looking so alike-- a 1 in trillion chance-- or Koo Seo-gyeong and Jeong Tae-Eul are related. We’ll settle this as soon as possible. But for now, I want to impress on you that Jeong Tae-eul’s safety depends on your agreement to my request. I may still have enemies. They will target her. I will protect her. And one of those protections is your agreement that she worked in Jongno-gu.” 

To Gon’s surprise, Kang Hyeon-min nodded immediately. 

Or perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised. Kang Hyeon-min looked a little more sullen now, but the earlier belligerence was gone. He was looking at the photo, and Gon had this inescapable recognition that Kang Hyeon-min wanted Tae-Eul safe, if only because she bore the same face as Koo Seo-gyeong. 

“Don’t worry,” Kang Hyeon-min said, now looking Gon in the eye. “We’ll take care of things. But I have a condition.”

“Name it.”

“Come to New Zealand when I ask for you.”

Gon blinked. That was unexpected. He’d thought Kang Hyeon-min was going to demand to be privy to more information, or perhaps to be sent to New Zealand. “Of course.” 

Gon stood up, and he felt much lighter than when he came here. He looked at Kang Hyeon-min and realized he felt the same as when ‘Kang Shin-Jae’ had decided to help him and Yeong. 

He felt like he would win. 

It was all too simple, really. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tae-Eul sat with Na-ri in the yard, both of them soaking as much of the summer sun as they could before today’s rain rolled in. Afternoons had been consistently rainy so far. Tae-Eul wondered if that had anything to do with her dream. 

“Did you look up my dreams yet?” she asked Na-ri. 

“Oh I keep forgetting, sorry. I’ll do it right now.” 

She laid a hand on Na-ri’s to stop her from digging into her apron pocket for her phone. “Don’t bother. I don’t really want to know. It could be weird.” 

Na-ri took that opportunity to grab Tae-Eul’s hand and hold it tight. “Let me look at your palm then. It could be good!”

Tae-Eul gave up on pulling back her hand. To her surprise and confusion, Na-ri was looking at the side of her palm, not all the lines in the center. 

“What is it?”

“I’m looking at your marriage lines.”

“Marriage lines?”

“These lines here.” Na-ri pointed to the spot of skin under Tae-Eul’s little finger. “And it’s… it’s awesome. Look at this fork. This means true love. And it’s running parallel to the heart line. That means happiness and success. These lines are also really deep. You have an intense relationship.” Na-ri grinned. “Is that TMI about you and Gon?” 

Tae-Eul scrunched her nose and pulled her hand away. She tried not to smile, so she wrapped her lips around the large straw of her chocolate cereal milk tea. 

Na-ri and Eun-sup had met Gon, of course. They lived right there in the same building as her dad. As far as all three of them knew, Gon worked for the government in a confidential capacity, and the less who knew him, the better. It explained Gon’s mysteriousness, and why he and Tae-Eul could only meet on weekends. 

WIth Eun-sup on a fast-track to the NIS, it wasn’t difficult for them to accept Gon and his story. Na-ri liked Gon, and was as impressed with him this time around as she had been before. 

“So what did you tell them?” Na-ri asked. 

“I just said I wanted to resign. I didn’t tell them anything else. Can you imagine? They would have ruined our goodbye lunch and told me I’m being stupid and I can marry without resigning. Then they would have bugged me about meeting Gon again.”

“You’re not being stupid. As long as you’re sure.” 

Tae-Eul smiled. Na-ri had a knack of picking up on the heart of the matter. “That’s what my dad said. He just asked if I was sure. It was almost anticlimactic the way he didn’t react. I wonder if Gon talked to him before. And I really am sure. You’ve just seen my marriage lines, haven’t you?” 

Na-ri just looked steadily at her despite her joke. “You’re giving up a lot for him.”

Tae-Eul had always loved the way she and Na-ri meshed in their straightforwardness, but she loved Na-ri most at that moment. Heart of the matter. She took a deep breath. “It doesn’t really feel like that. It’s more like I’m meeting him halfway.” 

“This is halfway? What is he giving up?”

Tae-Eul looked at Na-ri and hoped Na-ri saw the certainty in her eyes. “He can’t just give it up. That’s why he can’t ask me to give up anything either. And I’ve told him not to ask me. So he won’t. So I’m meeting him halfway now. That’s what I meant.”

Na-ri seemed to soften at that. “You’ve chosen well anyway. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Don’t be so sure he can’t give up things for you. I think that man would cross the universe for you. And I have this certainty you two have gone through much more than you’ve told me. That’s why I’m so calm about all this.” 

Tae-Eul blinked her eyes to stop the tears that rose there and just smiled fondly at her friend. “When are you ever not calm?” 

Na-ri sat back on her chair and fished out her phone. They sat companionably in silence. They weren’t gabby friends. They said what mattered and then they quieted until someone had something to say again. 

And what Na-ri said next would stay with Tae-Eul for a long time. 

“I don’t think I’m getting reliable results on the crescent moon. The moon makes everyone in the occult batty. But rain means sadness. Purification. Cleansing. I suppose that’s understandable.” 

They looked at each other and Tae-Eul nodded. Of course. That made sense. 

“A spider building a web means constructing your destiny. You’re making a new reality through your decisions. Again, perfectly understandable.” 

Tae-Eul swiped the tear that escaped her left eye and said, “Wow.” 

Na-ri nodded this time. “I told you dreams are accurate. Don’t cry. You’re going to be happy. I trust your choices. You trust it, too.”

Tae-Eul pressed her fingertips against her lips and fought back a hysterical half-sob, half-laugh. Na-ri thought the only reality changing was that Tae-Eul was no longer a cop. 

God. Her subconscious knew better and was already looking ahead. 

She did trust her choices.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gon looked between Lady Noh and Secretary Mo, the two women he trusted most, next to Tae-Eul. “This is truly all I need?”

They were in his office at Gwangyeongjon, and the two women stood on either side of his desk, each having set down a document on the surface: one was a traditional silk scroll, the other a modern A4 cardstock. 

“Yes, Pyeha,” Secretary Mo said. “No one has any say at all. It’s only between you and… the future queen.”

“Your parents married in church,” Lady Noh said. “You know that. But even then, it was very private. You can get married there, or here, or another church. Anywhere you want.” 

Gon smiled at them both. He loved Lady Noh when she spoke with that nodding emphasis. 

“It’s not up to me. It’s up to--It’s up to the future queen.” His chest clenched when he said that. He sighed and bit his lip to control the grin. It probably looked undignified, especially with the documents in front of him. 

He laid a hand on the silk scroll, carefully inked the calligraphy brush, and wrote his name and Tae-Eul’s onto the scroll in Hangul and in Hanja. 

When he was done, he smiled at Lady Noh. “Please arrange for my Entreaty ceremony. I will bow down to my ancestors and request their blessing.” 

Lady Noh nodded and picked up the scroll. Gon knew she would burn it with sage and cedarwood. He wondered if he should take a photo of the scroll to show Tae-Eul, but dismissed the thought immediately. Tae-Eul might just get… intimidated by this ritual. Creeped out. Creeped out was the right term. He smiled at the thought. 

He turned to Secretary Mo and handed back the simple A4 cardstock, ignoring the mix of Hanja and Hangul across it for now, because the words were too beautiful, and a little too far away just now when he didn’t even know when he and Tae-Eul would sign it. “Please keep this for now. I know you probably already have it in triplicate.”

“Of course, Pyeha. And may I congratulate you?” 

He echoed the words that he could still hear like a song stuck in his head. “Not today. But soon.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------

So it was that when they arrived back in Corea that weekend-- the manpasikjeok had really stopped sending them elsewhere and elsewhen-- everything was in readiness. 

They both knew it somehow, even though they didn’t speak of it. It was there in their smiles as they kissed and made love. And then they just lay in bed basking happily in being together, skin to skin, their hearts beating in sync, nothing between them, and yet everything within their arms as they held each other. 

He smiled at her with half-lidded eyes and asked the question he always asked. 

“Will you be my queen?”

Tae-Eul smiled back. Smiled with all the affection and conviction she had for this man, and gave the answer she hadn’t realized she’d always wanted to give. 

“Yes.”

Gon drew breath and held it. Then he exhaled and grinned as if nothing monumental had happened, but his hand shook a little as he lifted it to cup her cheek. 

“Will it make you happy?”

“Yes.”

“What about your job?”

She placed her hand over his, her fingers sinking into the spaces between his. “My job is still my job. If I ever decide to get back to it. I want you. I want a family. The fourteenth rule is not asking me about my job. My last one or the one I’m about to have. I can handle it.”

He kissed her. It was what they did when there was too much to say, or nothing to say, really. She already knew he loved her. And with this new sacred gift she’d given him, he was trembling with how much she loved him. So he kissed her until his hand stopped shaking. 

“And your dad?”

“Still my dad. We’ll visit.” 

They kissed again. There were tears that escaped her eyelids and he brushed them away tenderly. 

She tucked her face against his neck and whispered, “What about Koo Seo-gyeong?”

“Still Koo Seo-gyeong. She’s in New Zealand. And apparently, we’ll visit.” 

“We will?”

“We will.” 

“So everything’s done?” 

“Well, no. Unless you want to get married by proxy?”

“No!”

They laughed.

“Can you say yes again for me, to erase that ‘No’ you just shouted? That could be bad luck.”

“I didn’t shout. What will I say yes to?”  
  


“Staying with me. Living with me. Tirelessly. Because it might get exhausting. I’m asking you again not to get exhausted.”

She smiled as if nothing monumental was happening, but her hand shook a little as she moved their joined hands from her cheek to her neck, where the necklace he gave her lay nestled. His eyes moved from hers to the necklace and back, and she smiled at the understanding in his gaze. 

Then she placed her other hand against his neck, to stroke his skin with her fingers, to brush her thumb against that dimple on his smiling cheek. Her smile turned into an outright grin. She was going to see that dimple every day of her life. 

“Yes.”


	11. The Morning Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning before they parted, before she let him go for what could well have been forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Companion to the first part of The Thirteenth Rule
> 
> I love Episode 15. So much tenderness there, and so much heartbreak that it's my first time rewatching certain scenes when I finally decided to flesh out THIS outline. 
> 
> This is for Patty @pateetsie, who sent me a bucket of joy, and wanted some fluff. There's fluff here. :) 
> 
> EDITED: Apparently there's no fluff here and I was cussed out for being misleading. I'm so sorry. LOL 
> 
> EDITED II: Feb 1, 2021: @01thebetween (Twitter) captured a teardrop in Lee Gon's eyes today in one of her amazing gifs and I had to include it here in this chapter. Thanks to Ate Hya @TheLadyDianaP for poking me in my cave to show me the gif. T.T

It was raining. Soft rain. The kind that washed away sleet if any had come in the cold night, the kind that spring asserted against any last vestiges of winter. And she was warm, so very warm with Gon spooning her and breathing onto her hair under their shared blanket. 

She wiped her eyes and swallowed the sniffling that had woken her up. He was here. There was no need for this. 

Gon tightened his arms around her--gently, without disturbing her wound--and kissed her on her hairline. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

She turned in his arms and she saw love and… something else in his eyes. She focused on love. Focused on how he looked like he wanted to kiss her. Focused on all the affection in that gaze. So she smiled at him and smiled wider when she saw that other thing recede from his eyes, even if just for now. 

His eyes brightened even more when she stroked his arm, clad in the sleeves of hospital pajamas. “What happened to your clothes? You didn’t get stabbed too while I was asleep?”

“Your nurse happened. She gave me this to wear and took my clothes to the laundry. She felt sorry for me trying to fit into this bed in those clothes.” 

“Oh yeah. That jacket certainly wasn’t for sleeping in.” She made a face. “Were they filthy?”

He grinned. “I don’t know. Probably. Frozen time and space also worked on my entire excretory system but I did go out of that place several times. Did I smell when you saw me in 2016? And last night? I’ve showered before getting back in here with you.” 

She shook her head, laughing. 

The rain continued in the background, falling a little harder, but still a soft, pleasant background as he kissed her. 

Tae-Eul sighed into that kiss, loving the feel of his lips and tongue against hers and ignoring the tears that spilled from her eyes again. He had also kissed her last night, but she was already half asleep by then, exhausted from everything, her adrenaline and her brain shutting down the moment Gon was finally there beside her, promising he wouldn’t leave her. 

So now she focused on that kiss. And nothing else. The sound of the rain helped. 

He brushed his thumbs against her cheeks and eyes, and kissed her eyelids and forehead, his hand a warm, solid weight on her cheek and neck. She placed her hand over his, wrapping her fingers around his thumb. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again.  
  
She shook her head again. “Don’t mind me. I’m just glad you’re here. Don’t go.” 

He nodded. 

They both ignored what returned to his eyes. 

She moved to get up and he nimbly jumped off the bed and rounded it to help her sit up without straining her middle. 

She usually had to roll to her right side and then use her elbow and arm to lever herself up. But he made things simple, wrapping his arm around her and simply lifting her up. 

She smiled up at him. “Thanks. Can you help me? My hair wash day was supposed to be yesterday. But I was busy.” 

His expression said he wasn’t happy about that, but he grinned all the same. “Of course. I can help you wash everything.” 

She slapped him on the arm and left him to laugh at his own dorkiness, pushing him aside to go to the bathroom. 

Having him there helped. Instead of struggling over the sink and getting the front of her hospital gown wet anyway despite covering it with a towel, he held a wash basin under her chin so she didn’t have to bend over to wash her face. 

They did the same thing when she brushed her teeth. 

Then he used the already damp towel to cushion the rim of the sink. He helped her position her head on that towel cushion just so, and he washed her hair, digging his fingers into her scalp, his eyes warm and attentive. Watching for any discomfort. Watching, period. She held his gaze for the first minute, then closed her eyes because the sight of him just...filled her so much and made her spill over with tears. It was ridiculous. 

But was it only yesterday that she didn’t know if she was ever going to see him again? 

Only yesterday when she felt both sad and relieved that she wasn’t--

She took a deep breath. She wasn’t going to dwell on any of that today. 

They had today and she hoped it was going to be a long day. 

She opened her eyes and he was still looking at her, now with one hand guiding the handheld shower over her hair and the other on her forehead so the water from her rinse wouldn’t run down her face. 

“You’re really good at this. You can go professional.” 

“No one would hire me. Everyone else would lose their tips because the customers would flock to me.” 

They both laughed. She loved seeing him laugh. She had missed that laugh so much. 

He wrapped her hair in the towel, tucking everything carefully so she wouldn’t drip, and then helped her get up again. Once she was on her feet, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and tucked her against him. 

Her arms were already around his waist, her hands stroking his back. She loved how warm he felt under the thick cotton pajamas. Loved the solid feel of him enclosing her. Loved the weight of his head as he pressed his cheek against the towel securely knotted around her hair. 

Loved that he was there for her to hold. 

They stayed like that, just holding each other, until they heard someone enter her hospital room outside the en suite. He took her hand and they went out together. The nurse paused on her way out the door. She looked at them and smiled. 

“I left your clothes there for you,” she said to Gon, then turned to Tae-Eul. “They’ll send breakfast in a bit. I’ll make sure it’s enough for two. Then I’ll come back with your IV and check on your wound.”

She just smiled again when they both bowed to thank her. 

Tae-Eul looked at Gon. “What did you tell her? Why does she love us so much? She wasn’t happy with me last night.”

He raised his eyebrows and smiled in that half-smug, half-self-deprecating way only he could pull off. “Maybe we just look good and romantic?” 

“Romantic is not the word in my head right now, but it rhymes.” 

Breakfast was quick. She just wanted to start the day. Maybe they could sneak out now that the rain had stopped and the sun was out. She was already done with her bowl of dakjuk before it occurred to her that she could have made Gon feed her. Ridiculous thought. But maybe later. 

The nurse came back and scolded Tae-Eul for removing her IV while she redid it all. Tae-Eul didn’t flinch, but Gon did. When the nurse left, Tae-Eul said, “You’re not scared of needles, are you?” 

“Of course not. But this is the second time I’m seeing you with an IV. That’s two times too many.” 

“I’ll take an IV over a cast any day.”

He rolled his eyes but only shook his head in wry amusement. 

He changed back to his black pullover and trousers in the en suite and then they were back to staring at each other while he blow-dried her hair. 

She wanted to ask him what he was thinking of, but she already knew. She saw a tear escape the corner of his eye and understood as their eyes met in the mirror. She took hold of his pullover between her fingers, and it was enough to quiet her rising panic, to bring her back to him, to delay the inevitable, to stave off what was coming as long as possible.

They had today. 

“I bet you take longer getting your hair done.”

“Not really. It’s fast when you have the right tools and two people doing the work,” he said with a straight face. He laughed at the look on her face. “It’s really just mousse and gel, you know.” 

“Why don’t you just slick it back like Jo Yeong does with his hair?”

“Too easy. And he’s been doing it since he got tired of his bowl cut. So I can’t exactly copy him.” 

“He had a bowl cut?” 

“Yeah. It looked ridiculous. _You_ were so cute as a kid. I saw your pictures at your house, of course, but seeing you in person was different. You were probably so cute as a baby.” 

“No, no, I wasn’t a pretty baby.” This wasn’t a subject she wanted, though she applauded herself for being able to say the word baby now. She was going to be fine. “Let’s go downstairs for my checkup so we can go outside.” 

She was glad Gon didn’t have to be there when her bandage was changed. The wound was clean but still angry, and it was going to leave an inch of scarring despite the good stitching. She took her antibiotics and the nurse injected another dose of pain meds in her IV. 

She wondered how long she could stay awake with those doses in her bloodstream, but she managed. Oh, she managed. 

That morning was beautiful, even if she was warned against straining herself and had to be wheeled around, even if Gon was already steeling himself against that regret and unassailable decision she’d seen in his eyes, even with her barely hanging on to composure by touching him all she could. 

He fed her bibimbap, and she fed him his bowl of instant ramyeon in return. When one noodle was too violent and broth splashed all over both their faces, they wiped each other’s cheeks and mouths with their hands, laughing hard enough for her wound to twinge and remind her it was still there. 

He helped her wash up, and then he helped her lie down because it was probably so obvious that she was fighting sleep. 

She curled up facing him in his seat, and she memorized everything about him, that ridiculously perfect hair, his beautiful eyes, that nose, that cheek that hid her favorite dimple, those lips she knew could turn her breathless and mindless and boneless. 

And his hands, both clasped and completely enveloping her hand. Those big hands that could deftly handle chalk, shoot hoops, fix cars, knock men down with a single stroke from his sword or his crop, hands that commanded the manpasikjeok and yet were also trapped by the manpasikjeok. 

She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t cry again. “You’ll probably leave when I sleep.”

“No.” 

All right. She’d take that. She smiled. She wanted to say, “Don’t go.” But that was no longer right to say now, not when their morning was fast turning into evening. She would sleep, and then maybe when she woke up, she would have a better argument than simply telling him they should just… not save the world. 

She opened her eyes to drink him in, one last time. “Saranghae.” 

He stroked her hair and pressed his lips to hers for several long moments. “Nado.” 


	12. Interlude: The Ribbon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Directly follows Corea News 29: Outstanding Royals: The King's Birthday
> 
> Pieces of Paper and The Morning Before apparently affected me more than I realized  
> Let's have an interlude. This is smut-fluff. I just need some fluffy sweetness between husband and wife.
> 
> Also for Patty and collectsfallenstars for 1 month of shenanigans

Tae-Eul felt tears rise in her eyes as Gon kissed her heatedly. In the back of her head, very very far back, she knew Jangmi and Yeong were in the car with them and probably trying not to see them, but she didn’t care. 

Gon’s thumbs wiped the tears that spilled past her eyelashes without stopping his kiss, and he moved from her lips to her cheeks, peppering her face with kisses. She loved his breath against her skin, his lips, the wet heat of his tongue when he drew her earlobe into his mouth.

“I missed you,” he whispered against her ear. “Did you miss me?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around him tighter. 

She took her turn in kissing his cheeks, his eyelids, his forehead, both sides of his nose, which made him chuckle against her. She pressed her lips to his, bit his lower lip, and soothed it with another kiss. Then she snuggled against him, leaning on his side and shoulder, their arms intertwined between them. He pressed his cheek against her head. She held his hand with both of hers in her lap.

The drive didn’t last that long. When the car stopped, Gon didn’t wait for someone to open his door. He pushed it open and gently pulled her with him. 

Yeong had driven them straight to the pocket garden and the French doors that led to their study. Once inside, Gon removed his coat. He pulled Tae-Eul against him and just held her like that, his arms crossed around her back, hands at her waist. Tae-Eul pressed her cheek against his cashmere, loving the feel of being completely wrapped in him. 

She could hear his heart beating. 

“How are you?”  
  
“I’m fine. Have you eaten?”

“Before the flight.” She felt him kiss her hair. “I should take a bath.” 

Tae-Eul leaned back in their embrace and smiled up at him. “Let’s get you into a bath then.”

The hallways leading to their room were already emptied. Between the study and their bedroom, Gon had completely undone her bun and made her slightly unsteady so he had to support her the last few steps to their door. 

He didn’t let go until her knees locked again underneath her. He looked entirely too pleased about that. Tae-Eul slapped him on the shoulder and then used the same hand to fan her face as she pushed off him to the en suite. She kicked off her shoes on the way there. 

She turned on the taps at the tub. He was right behind her, already barefooted. She turned to him and pulled his turtleneck out of his trousers and then up, over his head. She let the black cashmere drop on the floor because he had already tugged her for another kiss, another hug, and she ran her hands over his skin, loving the familiar heat and… electricity. She could swear her fingertips were tingling. So she pressed them gently against his skin to soothe them. 

She felt water lap against her feet. 

“Oh!” 

He held her arm and waist firmly as she dove to turn off the taps. They laughed and he kept his hold on her as she dumped his bath salts in the water. 

“Get in there and get clean.” 

“Join me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

As she expected, he shook his head ruefully. “No. Not safe. Wait for me.” He led her back to their bedroom, not letting go of her hand until she was on dry floor. She smiled at him and pushed him in the direction of the tub. 

She retrieved her shoes, went to their walk-in wardrobe, and changed out of her dress. He’d been gone for two weeks. It was the longest they’d been apart, not counting certain circumstances. 

Two weeks. That meant she no longer had to think or second-guess putting on a particular floor-length, silk nightgown. It was a Queens Day gift from Seung-ah, and Tae-Eul hadn’t taken it out of the box since she first opened the gift. 

Now, however, two weeks was enough to give her the gumption to wear this. 

And it wasn’t bad. In all honesty, it was gorgeous. 

It draped and fell to the floor in shiny black silk. The neckline was a deep V, accentuating that yes, her breasts had grown bigger since her pregnancy. The nightgown covered her to the ankles and wrists, but the entire thing was held together under her breasts by nothing more than a slender strip of white silk chiffon ribbon, stark against the black silk. 

Seung-ah had said it was like giving the king a present to unwrap.

Tae-Eul blushed and turned away from the mirror before she changed her mind. 

It _was_ his birthday. 

\--------------

Gon felt Tae-Eul return to the bathroom before he saw her. He opened his mouth to tell her to be careful of the wet floor but his words died in his throat when she came into sight. 

She looked like a goddess. 

He loved her in sheer, billowing sleeves like that, because he knew the softness of the arms underneath.

He loved the gown hinting at her waist, because he knew how tiny it was, even now that she was pregnant, and knew the delicious curves of that waist flaring to her hips. 

He loved the lapels of that gown over the little bean just starting to show now. 

And that ribbon. 

His hand twitched. 

He exhaled the breath he hadn’t known he was holding when Tae-Eul sat at the ledge of the tub. 

“How was it?” 

“What?” 

He sounded completely gormless even to his own ears. 

She laughed. “Singapore. Did you get everything done to your satisfaction? When we last talked, you said the Minister of Finance was tricky.”

He just stared at those pink lips and his eyes were also drawn to the ribbon, the ends fluttering with Tae-Eul’s slightest movement. 

He groaned when Tae-Eul leaned forward and scrubbed his neck and behind his ears with the sponge. She was biting her lips, amused. The water was clear. There was no hiding what she’d done to him. 

He gently grabbed her hand. “Let me finish this. Don’t get your gown wet.” 

“I’m going to take it off anyway.”

He stared at her audacity and then grinned when she predictably blushed. “I should go away more often.”

“No.” 

With that, she rose from the tub ledge. And his hand seemed to have a mind of its own. Gon watched it rise and snag the end of that ribbon. 

The bow came apart and he watched again, mesmerized, as the black silk gaped to give him a glimpse of a swath of skin at her middle, before she caught the fabric in her hands and walked away from him, without retying the ribbon. 

She was biting her lip as she walked away, looking back at him saucily but laughing at herself almost immediately. 

She was adorable and she was a goddess and Gon had never rinsed after a bath so fast. 

He dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist. 

When he made it to their bedroom, Tae-Eul sat facing him on the bench in front of their bed. She had knotted the ribbon. 

\--------------------------

Tae-Eul watched her husband take long strides to where she sat. The way he looked at her made her blood pound in her ears. 

When he was in front of her, he paused, and then dropped down beside her on the bench. 

“Are you trying to kill me?” he said, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her against him, his hands running up and down her back over the silk. 

She laughed, half-embarrassed, half-thrilled. 

“Do you like it?”

“I love it,” he said against the shell of her ear, kissing her there and on her neck. “I love you. You are so beautiful.” 

Then he stood up and pulled her to the bed. He sat down while he kept her standing between his knees. 

With his eyes on hers, he pulled both ends of the ribbon. 

The nightgown pretty much stayed put. Tae-Eul rather thought it should have been nudged away by how hard her heart was beating in her chest. 

Then she drew a sharp intake of breath when she felt his fingers brush the skin near her breast, and another as he gently lifted the lapels of the gown and she felt the cool air on her skin. 

His eyes were still locked on hers. But once the edges of the gown were at her shoulders, his eyes moved to sweep down her body. 

His hands went to her waist, touching her too lightly, so she placed her hands over the silk to press her hands more firmly against her skin, smiling at him. He smiled back. 

“How long have you been planning this gift?”

As if she wasn’t trembling from the heat of his gaze, she scrunched her nose. “I just happened to have this nightgown.”

He grinned and drew her to sit on his lap. He kissed her cheek, nuzzling it while his hands caressed her waist and belly. 

When his hands-- _finally_ \-- went to her breasts, he gently cupped them, his thumbs stroking the sides. He looked at them and said, “Do they feel okay now?” 

Tae-Eul nodded and told him with her eyes that they were more than okay, that they should be touched more than he was currently touching them. And he always did read her mind. His hands moved in a firmer squeeze and his thumbs brushed both nipples. Her breathing sped up and she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with more urgency than all their languid kisses so far. 

Reading her mind again, he scooped her up and placed her on the bed. 

She watched him dispose of his towel in one swift movement. Then he was gently rearranging her on the bed, moving her so that her head was on the pillows, and then and only then did he finally press her down into the mattress, embracing her with his entire body. 

She had missed this. Missed him. She wrapped both arms around him, loving the feel of the silk on her arms, and the heat of his skin against it. She was still technically wearing the nightgown. It was simply open at the front, baring her to him, and he kissed her everywhere that wasn’t covered in silk. 

He paused to check on her when he suckled on her left nipple. With his lips wrapped around her and his eyes looking at her with that soft gaze, she could do nothing but nod and make a needy noise, because she _was_ beginning to ache and need him. 

“Are you-- are you going to check on me every time you do something?”

He smiled softly, his eyes affectionate and heated at the same time. When he spoke, his voice was in that low timber that made her chest tight. “Your breasts hurt before. Does anything else hurt?” 

“Nothing, nothing hurts.” When he teased her with light touches, she said, “ _Lee Gon, don’t make me hurt you_.” 

His soft smile turned wider, and she smiled, loving his boyish grin. She pulled him toward her so she could kiss that grin. They both groaned against each other’s mouths because everything else met as their lips met, and they could both feel how ready she was. 

Without checking this time, he simply slid home, and she gasped against his lips as he eased into her inch by glorious inch. 

When he had sunk to the hilt, he was looking at her, checking again, so she kissed him and rocked her hips, telling him clearly what he should put his mind to. And he did just that, sliding his arms around her shoulders and his elbows bracing there beside her head as they started a steady rhythm. 

She stroked his hair. It was wet at the ends from his bath. And she could smell the musky, earthy, and clean, sharp scent of the patchouli and vetiver in his bath salts. She had been sniffing that bath salt for the past two weeks, but it wasn’t the same. 

He only smelled like him when the scent was on him. 

“I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you.” 

“I thought of this. Every. Time. I. Went. To. Bed.”

“We were video calling every time.” 

_“That’s why.”_

They both giggled, though their expressions quickly morphed to something else and she gasped and closed her eyes at a particularly heavenly thrust. And Gon being Gon, missing nothing, he did it again, and again, rendering her speechless and mindless. 

He pressed his lips against her neck, and she dug her fingers against his scalp, loving the closeness, loving the feel of him in her arms and inside her. 

“Are you falling asleep?”

“No.” She _had_ been very tired the last few months, but she wasn’t now. Not right now. Not when she hadn’t seen him for _two weeks_. She smiled without opening her eyes, and turned her head to catch his lips with hers. 

Then she had to wrench her mouth away from his when she was close, and she cried out when she came. 

She kissed him again even while she still trembled, anchoring herself to him through the kiss. 

Gon had a look of concentration now. He was looking at her, and he had slowed his pace. 

She clung to him and groaned as he lifted her up, kept them married, and stood from the bed. Then he gently laid her on her back on the bed, with her hips at the edge. This move separated them and her arms flopped down bonelessly beside her. 

She watched him as he tied the ribbon of her gown loosely under her breast. Very loosely. The edges of the gown didn’t even meet; they remained at her shoulders and at her sides framing her rather than covering her. 

He nodded in satisfaction. “I love that ribbon.”

Then he lifted her thighs around his hips and thrust back inside.

Tae-Eul gasped and reached for him, but he stayed just out of arms’ reach standing over her and starting a relentless pace. She balled the sheets in her hands and hung on. 

She watched him watch her. “What do you think about when you look like that?”

He expelled breath. “Like what, like I’m trying to give you another orgasm and you keep interrupting me?”

She laughed between her sharp intakes of breath. “Yes.”

“Math equations.” 

She would have laughed again but her breath hitched in her throat and she closed her eyes and groaned. Maybe that did it, or maybe he just couldn’t really stay away from her for long. She soon felt the warm weight of his torso against her, his hair falling over his brow as he leaned in to kiss her, bracing himself on his arms on either side of her head. 

She held him close and gasped softly against his ear with each thrust of his hips, his cock brushing and stroking her differently in this position, and it was so good, _so good_ , and she had really missed him. 

She felt him stiffen and thrust hard with his release. On the fourth thrust, another orgasm rolled through her. 

They both just held each other for long moments, kissing languidly and sharing each other’s air. Then he gently withdrew and climbed into bed, pulling her along with an arm behind her knees until she was fully back on the bed with his arms around her and one leg over both of hers. 

“I really did hate being away,” he said, looking at her with heavy-lidded eyes. 

She laid a hand on his cheek, poking his dimple when he smiled. “Me too.” 

“I won’t do that again for awhile, not until you can come with me.” 

“Well, that will be quite a while.” 

He grinned and kissed her. “Did you like your surprise?” 

She scrunched her nose. "It was cheesy. I can't believe you did that in public." 

They laughed. 


	13. The Queen's Dressser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first days of queenship, and the start of the queen’s famous sartorial elegance. 
> 
> Read with: 
> 
> \- Corea News #1: Meet Tae-Eul, the mysterious new queen of Corea  
> \- Corea News #24: 10 Times the king and queen of Corea made the ahjummas ugly-cry over their romance (This is the Pyongyang Hospital scene)  
> \- Days and Nights of Forever Part 10 Pieces of Paper (for the 14th Rule)
> 
> This has been in my outlines for ages, and then the recent fashion buzz made by the August 5 posts just made me flesh it out. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! 

Daily life became daily life. 

He was a king. She was a queen, now. But life was somewhat normal until after breakfast. 

He always woke up first. He was an early riser. Sometimes Tae-Eul would blink to consciousness with the gray light of dawn seeping between the gap of the draperies and she’d have a moment to think she was the first one to wake but no, Gon’s arms would tighten around her, and he’d kiss her on the cheek or temple and burrow his face into her neck. 

They’d have another cat nap cuddled together, or make love, or make love and then nap again, before one of them got up. 

That was usually Tae-Eul. And when Tae-Eul got up, Gon would, too. She’d tried to make him sleep a bit more because she was only going for a workout, but he’d said, “I’ll watch. Or we can spar.”

So this became a part of their morning routine. 

Perhaps this one wasn’t normal, was it? How many couples in the kingdom or the republic had a suite converted into a dojang and started most mornings sparring? 

Tae-Eul loved it. Gon had now become comfortable and competitive enough to be a gratifying sparring partner. He didn’t pull his kicks and hits-- not by much. He expected her to dodge or parry. 

He was bigger and heavier, so he was pretty much what she had trained all her life to attack. 

The first morning they’d done this-- and once she’d taught him a lesson about his nonsense of not wanting to hurt her-- their spar lasted almost an hour, each of them getting to know each other’s moves, getting into each other’s defenses, and getting under each other’s skin. They’d discovered each other’s tender bruises when they made love in the shower. 

The second morning when she’d suddenly feinted a swing and then brought him down with a leg sweep, they decided to do away with the usual courtesies. No bowing. Not even facing each other across the mat. It was much more fun to never know when the other was going to start. 

Like now. As soon as they came out of their dojang’s shower in their workout clothes--tees and sweatpants--Tae-Eul spun a kick to Gon’s head. 

But his head was no longer there. 

Rising to full height from his momentary duck, Gon grabbed her by the waist and dropped her on her back on the mat, locking both arms around her shoulders as he leaned across her from the side, trapping her torso with his completely. 

She squirmed and bridged her hips and tried to lift him using her elbows and feet but she couldn’t budge him. “What are you doing?”

He was grinning as he kept her pinned, his head resting almost casually on her opposite shoulder. “This is jiu jitsu, of course. Tap when you’re tired.” 

She bared her teeth. She couldn’t believe the bastard surprised her with jiu jitsu. “Like hell I’ll tap.” 

She bridged her hips, using her feet and legs for leverage, but that did nothing because he was on her upper body. She could feel him laughing against her and it just infuriated her more that he had enough breath and energy to laugh. He was only pinning her with his body weight. 

And she was getting tired.

She straightened her legs and just rested limply on the floor. She smirked when he stopped laughing and instantly stiffened in awareness. He rocked forward a little bit more from his knees and ankles, and pinned her a little bit more firmly on the mat. 

He looked at her warily now. 

It was her turn to grin. “I bet you’re getting tired. You’re not in a comfortable position at all, are you?”

“No. I can stay here on top of you all day.” 

Of course, a court maid opened the door just as he said that. 

Tae-Eul closed her eyes and felt her blood rush to her neck and face. 

Without moving an inch, Gon said, “Annyeonghaseyo. Are you new?”

Tae-Eul felt as much as heard the thump on the mat as the maid dropped to her knees. “Pyeha. I’m so sorry. I was told to check here and clean. I was told I should do so before six.” 

“Ahh. I suppose we got here too early today. You can go.” A pause. A chuckle with his breath fanning across her ear and cheek. “She’s gone.” 

Tae-Eul bridged her hips and braced her legs and feet. But this time she didn’t try to push him off. She just started rocking him side to side. As she’d calculated, he hadn’t expected it, and he went off balance as she pushed and pulled him back and forth while he was on his knees. 

On the fifth pull, she had both hands on his shoulder, and on the sixth push, she pushed both hands on that shoulder and managed to break his pin. With the space she created between their bodies, she pulled both legs toward her chest and then kicked him off her. 

She followed his momentum as he landed on his back. She sat on his stomach, braced with her thighs and feet in case he tried something. She could still feel the heat in her cheeks so she might as well just continue blushing. With more audacity than she really felt, she said, “Well? What happened to staying on top of me all day?” 

He must have seen her embarrassment at her own words because he laughed, looking at her with that gaze that still made her want to hide or kiss him. Both. It wasn’t heated. Just too intense, too admiring. 

He put both hands on her knees and squeezed. “I can. But we’re going to Pyongyang today.” 

And just like that, she folded over and hid her face against his shoulder. 

“What should I wear? Are they going to dress me again?” 

He stroked her hair. “I’ve laid out something for you, and you won’t need help getting into these, so no, they won’t dress you.” She could hear the smile in his voice. The last time she’d been ‘dressed’ was at their wedding, when she’d been helped into heirloom silk and the dragon robe and the pheasant robe. Everything had been gorgeous… and overwhelming.   
  
She lifted her face and looked at him. “ _You_ laid something out for me? I guess you do know clothes. The first thing you did when we met was go shopping.”

“No, the first thing I did was hug you.”

“No, the first thing you did was infuriate me.”

“I was just answering your questions.” He smiled at her and stroked her hair. “And you can really wear what you like, you know.”

What a lie that was. Tae-Eul knew she couldn’t just wear what she wanted, or rather, what she’d been used to. Truth be told, she hadn’t really wanted to wear what she had been used to, all those clothes she’d worn as a cop. She simply felt she had to. 

When she made detective and no longer had to wear a uniform, she’d been at a loss about what to wear. In the end, she defaulted to big trousers, roomy shirts, roomier coats, clothes she could move around in, clothes in sizes that disguised how small she was. 

It was always fun when she punched someone and they were stunned at both the punch and at the strength of it from the size of her. But she’d always faced lowlifes or their wider circle who all had things to hide and she’d rather not face them without armor. Her big clothes had been armor. 

And now those lowlifes were far, far away from her. The people around her were their complete opposite in station and stature, she’d seen how the women in this strata dressed here, and she knew what was expected of her as queen. 

She swung herself off Gon and got up, nudging his ribs with her foot when she was standing and he was still lying there. “Come on. I want to see what you laid out for me.” 

He sat up and stroked her leg over her sweatpants from the back of her knee to her ankle. “It’s okay if you don’t want to go. You can take your time. And contrary to what Secretary Mo says, they can certainly wait to meet you.” 

She bent down and retrieved his hand from her ankle, then used it to pull her to his feet. He went willingly enough, and she continued to pull his hand across her shoulders. He tucked her against his side and she looked at him with all the fondness she felt at that moment. 

“Fourteenth rule,” she said. “Let me worry about my job. You have yours.” 

Back in their suites-- no maids encountered in the hallways this time-- he watched her face as they walked into their dressing room and she saw what he had laid out for her. 

Laid out wasn’t the right thing to call it. The whole thing was on a dressmaker’s dummy so she could see how it would look when worn. 

She smiled. Gon grinned, half-smug, half-relieved. 

“I thought you’d want something more familiar to start,” he said, squeezing her shoulder gently. “And I knew you might not want a dresser yet, not until you get really busy.”

“You thought right.” She stepped away from him and touched the fabric. Soft. It was a black pantsuit, with bronze buttons on the front and on the cuffs, shiny enough when it caught the light, but still subdued. The blouse was white. It was simple. She loved it. 

She decided she wouldn’t ask if the buttons were genuine, precious metal. Then what Gon said registered. “A dresser?” 

“The queen’s dresser. It’s an official position. Someone who picks out your outfits so you won’t have to. Historically, he or she is your chief eunuch or court lady.”

They looked at each other and they both stifled a laugh at imagining Lady Noh dressing either of them. Gon shrugged. “She would look after our clothes. She checks everything.” 

“I suppose it’s not normal if you just continue what you’ve started? I like this.”  
  


That boyish smile grew bigger and then turned impish. “I won’t mind. I’ll make time for it. I have lingerie and nightgowns in mind.”

Tae-Eul pursed her lips. “I won’t mind either. I love you whatever you wish to wear.” 

She counted three seconds for that to sink in and then she turned away giggling to go to the shower as he sputtered, “They’re for you! Not me! Why would I-- there are still rumors about me and Yeong-- don’t say stuff like that--” 

\-------------------------------------------------------

As Gon had predicted, three senior court ladies vying for the queen’s dresser position turned up with Lady Noh that morning. That day’s trip was their first official visit since the marriage, and the first time the kingdom would lay eyes on the queen. 

The women all looked familiar. He had probably seen them in his own dressing room over the years. 

Except for his valet, whom tradition had dictated to always be younger than the king, he hadn’t interacted with anyone who came and went from the dressing room, but he knew their faces. 

And now he looked over the women. One of them just might be chosen as his wife’s dresser. Her most intimate maid.   
  


His wife. That still thrilled him when it crossed his mind. 

The three ladies all wore their hair in a bun, and in their uniform, they looked interchangeable, but they all looked kind enough. He knew Lady Noh was quite picky about faces. 

In contrast to the king’s valet who was always younger so that he didn’t surpass the king’s seniority in any way, tradition dictated the queen’s dresser to be older than the queen, to impart dignity and wisdom to the queen. 

Gon decided Tae-Eul didn’t need to know that. He whispered as much to Lady Noh while they waited for Tae-Eul to appear. 

“Oh, my queen, you look lovely.”

“You have the perfect body proportions for suits.”

Gon looked up-- that last comment made him grimace a little-- as the court ladies erupted into movement and soft but insistent compliments. 

There she was, walking in with long strides and her shoulders square. Her eyes sought him immediately, so he made sure his gaze locked with hers. He knew saying anything right now would just make her squirm because of the people around them, so he just nodded and smiled. 

He realized the last court lady hadn’t spoken yet. She seemed to be the youngest of the three, maybe late-thirties or early forties. She was approaching the queen now. 

“How does it feel, Your Majesty? Do you like it?”

Hmm. That was nice. Not obsequious. Sensible. Gon could see potential in this court lady. 

Tae-Eul turned to her and said, “Yes, I like it.” She twisted her torso and swung her arms across her waist, testing the sleeves, and the court ladies all had to step back. Gon grinned. Probably a calculated move. 

“You made a good choice with the shoes,” the same court lady said. 

Gon looked down, and Tae-Eul did pick the perfect pair of pointed shoes for the suit. She looked perfect. 

He could also see all the women in the room staring at her with open expressions of admiration. Lady Noh, three senior court ladies, and three maids in attendance, and they were all looking at Tae-Eul. 

  
Lady Noh had told him Tae-Eul grew prettier the longer you looked at her. That memory still made him smile. And Yeong-- not in many or similar words-- had told him that the palace pretty much agreed with Lady Noh’s assessment. 

The Royal Guard had put ears out, of course, to detect any malicious intent, but there were none. If anything, the palace was smitten. 

The court ladies and court maids were always talking about the queen every time one of them saw her, and the talk was always the same: how fine and flawless her skin was, how fair, the natural waves in her hair. They’d even discussed her figure, slender without lacking the right curves. How tall she actually was, the same height or taller than the court maids considered tall among them. 

Well. Gon agreed with all that. His wife was perfect. 

“What do you want done to your hair, Mama?”

“Maybe a braided bun, to add texture to the suit.” 

“With your hair down, it makes the suit and pointed shoes casual and accessible rather than a power outfit. But you still look very put together.”

Points to the third court lady again. Gon leaned down to Lady Noh. “What’s her name?”

“Torres Chung-cha,” Lady Noh whispered back. “She’s only half-Corean.” 

“What’s the other half?”

“Filipino.” 

“Family is known to us?”

“Oh yes. They’re good people.” 

Gon looked at Tae-Eul, and she was looking at the suit’s reflection in the mirror, her lips doing that unconscious pouting tic he hoped no one would ever point out to her. 

“I’ll leave my hair down,” Tae-Eul said. 

“Maybe I can run a heated brush through it?” said Torres Chung-cha. “It will look polished and splendid.” 

Tae-Eul caught Gon’s eyes in the mirror, and he saw her curiosity and approval. The court ladies saw it, too, because they immediately produced the ceramic brush. One of them plugged it in with an extended cable, another accepted and positioned the chair a maid had fetched, and Torres Chung-cha received the brush from her peers with humility equal to their deference to her now as the candidate with the highest chance of succeeding. 

When Tae-Eul was seated and they started on her hair, Gon sat down too, crossing his legs and stretching an arm on the back of the sofa. 

“So who was that new maid who was hazed and sent to the dojang this morning?”

It was amusing how synced Tae-Eul and Lady Noh were as they jumped a little and raised their eyes to the ceiling. The five uniformed women all looked at the floor. Tae-Eul was red to the roots of her hair and glaring at him through the mirror. 

Torres Chung-cha was the only one who laughed softly. “Pyeha, that’s my cousin. She started yesterday.” 

Tae-Eul asked, “Is she all right?”

“Yes, she is, my queen. It served her right. She should have known better and only accepted instructions from her senior court lady. I hope she didn’t disturb Your Majesties?”

Tae-Eul said, “No.” Gon said, “Well--” 

Torres Chung-cha was grinning. “You would have no worries on that account, of course, Your Majesties. My cousin wouldn’t talk. Well, she couldn’t talk for an hour or so.” 

Gon laughed and opened his mouth but closed it again when he saw Tae-Eul giving him a look that promised retribution if he didn’t. So he did. 

Tae-Eul looked at Chung-cha reproachfully, but Chung-cha only beamed. 

Gon nodded to himself. He had done what he’d intended. Tae-eul needed someone she could talk to rather than talk at, and Torres Chung-cha had proven she was that someone. 

\-------------------------------------------------

Pyongyang wasn’t as bad as she’d feared. Tae-Eul let out a breath as she and Gon stepped away from the car and walked to the entrance. 

The Children’s Hospital didn’t have a helipad--a situation Gon told Secretary Mo to fix immediately--so they drove from another building whose name she couldn’t remember just now. 

There was crowd control already in place, and the Royal Public Affairs Office had kept a tight lid on the date. The result was only two news crews were there when they arrived, probably ones with eyes on helipads and recognized the royal chopper when it landed. Onlookers only came when they saw the press, and they were just passersby with time on their hands. 

“Pyeha, Mama,” was on everyone’s lips, and amid all the bowing and greetings, Tae-Eul nodded and smiled, her hand in Gon’s, gripping his tightly but remembering to let go when she saw the sign to the wards. 

Gon looked down at her then in surprise, as if he’d forgotten she could detach her hand from his, which was a silly thought. She bit her lip to keep from laughing hysterically. “I’m going this way, Pyeha.” She tilted her head toward the inpatient department.

“Ahh, of course, thank you, wangbi. I’ll see you in a few minutes.” 

He leaned toward her and Tae-Eul thought he was going to kiss her--and what would she do then? Let him? Deflect it?-- but he only went past her cheek to her ear, and whispered, “Saranghae.” 

She walked away before the dork said or did anything else mortifying, but she stopped short when she remembered the order of precedence. She was supposed to move only after the king had moved. 

When she turned back to him, he was still there, smiling, and motioning for her to continue on her way. She did as if she hadn’t just made a faux pas. To her right, In-yeong caught her eye and gave her a small nod of assurance. The Parks were royalists and In-yeong had been raised on guns and royal protocol, so that nod meant a lot to Tae-Eul. 

She visited all three floors of the inpatient rooms and talked to some of the kids, told them to listen to their mothers, drink their medicine, and get well soon. The rounds should have been quick, but doctors and nurses and parents all seemed to stop to talk to her, and she couldn’t turn them away. 

By the time she trailed kids and parents to the new wing, her fingers were trembling a little. 

It wasn’t because of the people-- they were all so nice. But Tae-Eul realized she wasn’t really used to talking to people. She usually interrogated them. Or arrested them. Her circle had been small all her life, people who were already around her in the first place, either at home, at the dojang, in class, and then at the academy and the station. 

She knew how to be polite and charming, but she’d just discovered doing it twenty-five times in a row was draining. She’d been polite and charming to twice that many people in the last hour. 

She also smiled and waved for photos about a dozen times before Jangmi saw she was tired of it and subtly stopped it through the rest of the guard. 

Tae-Eul was relieved when she was finally beside Gon again. 

The rosette to the new wing took up about half of the double doorway. It was in all the royal colors, black, blue, gold and crimson-- and she and Gon stood on either side of the huge rosette and cut the ribbon. 

There was loud applause and cheers, and Tae-Eul was sincerely happy because this new wing would help so many sick children. It was amazing how money well-spent could do so much. It made her proud and happy of this country--her new country. 

She wondered if that happiness had gone to her head or if she was really feeling lightheaded. 

She smiled and waved to more of the photos and hoped she didn’t look as pale and clammy as she felt. 

\---------------------------------------

Gon took one look at Tae-Eul and caught Yeong’s eye. Yeong looked at Tae-Eul, looked at Jangmi, and Jangmi looked around and went into the nearest consultation room. When he came out and nodded, Gon rose from his seat and raised a hand to the people in the universally understood language of asking to be excused. 

Then he pulled his wife to the room Jangmi had checked. 

Yeong closed the door just as Gon pulled Tae-Eul against him. She sighed and burrowed her face inside the lapel of his coat and Gon was a little alarmed at how heavily she leaned on him. Up close, she looked even paler. He pressed his hand against her cheek and neck. Her skin was a little cold. 

“Are you all right?” 

She nodded. “I’m fine. Let me just catch my breath.”

He stroked her back. “I remember my first royal visit. I was 15. It was at Sejong University, and the Ministry of Science and Technology and I were awarding one of the research centers a grant of nine billion won. I remember meeting so many people, including the foreign exchange students. I had to go sit in an empty room in the middle of it all.”

“Really?”

Gon nodded. For all her bravado and pluck, Tae-Eul was shy. It was something easily hidden by the nature of her job, where initiative was paramount, but Tae-Eul wasn’t someone who basked in attention. In her job, the light was on her targets, whether they were suspects, accomplices, witnesses, or informers, never her. 

He’d been raised and prepared for this and it was still exhausting when he did it for the first time. “It helps to think of something else. Everyone just becomes background.” 

She sighed against him. Her face emerged from his lapel. Her grip on his back relaxed. “Who’s your dresser?”

Gon smiled. She was such a quick study. “I don’t really know. I pick all the clothes you’ve seen me in since we met. The normal clothes anyway. And when I have to go somewhere, sometimes I don’t like what they lay out for me and I pick something else, but for the most part, they do well.” 

“That’s why you were good at being my dresser today.” 

“And you liked what I picked.”

She nodded against him, and she felt lighter, once more standing on her own feet. 

“I like that I won’t have to think of clothes if I have a dresser.”

“Hmm, yes. You just have to tell them what you like and don’t like. It’s still your decision, but your dresser should also be able to predict your preferences and decisions.”

“Is it really okay when I break protocol?”

“You’re really worrying about that now?” he said in mock outrage. “After all the names you’ve called me? I haven’t beheaded you yet, have I?”

She raised her face from where it still rested on his chest and looked at him with eyes that sparkled a little. He saw so much there, and he tightened his arms around her. 

“I need something for me,” she said quietly. “I’m the queen today. The king’s wife. Even my clothes will reflect on you and the country. I need something that’s mine. Just mine.”

He understood. Since he’d met her, he’d also become Lee Gon. Not just the king, but Lee Gon-- and he had made things his, too. He had decided to be Lee Gon as much as king, and he was still discovering what that meant beyond mathematics and rowing. 

Meeting her gaze, he said, “Someone asked me once what kind of king I was. And I didn’t know how to answer her. I’m still discovering the answer to that now.” 

Two teardrops spilled over but she was smiling. He wiped those tears. 

“Let me break the fourteenth rule for a second. Your queenship is yours. You are queen because you’re my wife yes, but you’re also queen in your own right. You have your own authority. You’ll need that authority because it’s going to be a thankless job at times, but I’m already excited about how you’ll shake this country.

“And everything you do to define your queenship will be one hundred percent yours because of your fourteenth rule, won’t it? I won’t have any input unless you ask me. But-- I hope you won’t mind it if I step in where needed. I don’t want you to be any more exhausted than you need to be. And I have been doing this since I was eight.”

She nodded and he smiled at her trust. He hoped he had demonstrated enough times in the past that he never stepped in until she needed him to. 

“Your clothes should reflect you and no one else. You’re the queen. You can set trends. You don’t have to follow any.” 

She wrinkled her nose. “I doubt I’ll set any trends.” 

“You might if I’m your dresser.” 

They laughed. 

“Can I give you some practical advice?”

She nodded, squeezing his waist. 

“When your photos are taken, smile smaller and don’t move much. That way, it won’t tire you out. Just smile with your eyes and that’s it.” 

She smiled brightly up at him, her eyes curved slits. “Like this?”

“Well, no. Haven’t you been listening? That’s gonna hurt your cheeks.” She laughed and then calmed down, looking at him fondly. “There. That smile. Small but sweet.” 

She held the smile she was giving him and she looked so beautiful he kissed her forehead. Would have kissed her if he wasn’t aware of the public outside the glass windows. 

But he’d been aware of them since he was eight. 

“Let’s go. We’ve been here long enough.” 

They came out of the room to a quieter cheer, with some staff and parents asking if the queen was all right. 

Tae-Eul gave them a small smile and told them she was fine. She was. 

Of course she was. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

The ribbon cutting at Pyongyang Children’s Hospital was followed by a whirlwind of more appearances. Tae-Eul steadily got used to it all, her stamina increasing and her cheeks getting used to the workout, and true to his word, Gon laid out her clothes for her. More suits, casual dresses, tops and trousers and skirts. 

Over time, she also altered his choices, exchanging this blazer for another one, or this blouse for that one instead. On paper and in the palace ranks, Torres Chung-cha was the queen’s dresser, but so far, all she was doing was give Tae-Eul confidence in her choices. 

Especially in shoes. Tae-Eul always picked her shoes, and Chung-cha seemed to genuinely like what she picked. Tae-Eul had tested her thrice already, picking pairs she knew weren’t quite right, and all three times, Chung-cha had spoken her mind. 

_“No, no. Not quite.”_

_“Oh no, Mama, you only wear brown leather shoes with blue, and even then, it’s the absolute last resort. We’re not in the twenties, we don’t have to wear brown shoes.”_

_“I’m not letting you out of the palace in that.”_

Shoes were easy enough for her to pick, since all the shoes she had were nice. Tae-Eul also discovered an affinity for some additional height. 

She’d always prefer flats, but she liked the way pumps pushed at her heels and the rest of her spine. Her gait changed. Her posture changed. It gave her a sense of aptitude and capacity, like she could face anything--and stomp painfully on anything that got in her way. 

Maybe that was why Seo-ryeong liked pumps so much and didn’t seem to wear anything else. 

“We have a line with Chanel, Versace, Givenchy, Diane von Furstenberg, Stella McCartney, and three boutiques who can supply different designers and brands. I think I have your preferred looks in my head now and if the king stops being your unofficial dresser,” Chung-cha said with wry amusement, “I’d like to try my hand at actually dressing you.” 

“He does have that trip to Sweden and it will take five days,” Tae-Eul said, telling herself she wasn’t actually already hating it. “You’ll have your chance then. But why are those designers all European? American? What about Corean designers?” 

“Hmm. Corean design is mostly streetwear, so far. Nothing you could wear, Mama. Rejina Pyo has nice coats. I can show you a selection. Leesle Hwang-- she creates modern interpretations of the hanbok. Although I think the Royal Court would prefer you to wear a hanbok properly if you’ll wear one.” 

Tae-Eul lifted her chin. She could still hear what Gon had said. Her clothes were her decision, hers alone. Hang the Royal Court. And if it helped a designer gain more recognition, all the better. “Let’s see what she has.” 

Chung-cha nodded, bowed, and left the room. 

Tae-Eul stood up and looked at her reflection. She-- well, Gon-- had always stuck to neutrals before, but now she was in her most colorful and most feminine outfit. A sheer purple blouse and floral print skirt in black and silver. She had to wear a silk tank underneath the blouse. The shoes she picked were also bold with three colors, black fading into nude at the heels. And the heels and soles were red. 

Chung-cha said they were the most gorgeous Louboutins she had ever seen, and the nude color almost blended in with Tae-Eul’s ankles and legs. 

Tae-Eul had wondered if she needed to put on red lipstick, which wasn’t her at all, but Chung-cha told her it was fine. Purple and red just worked together by themselves. 

The heels were the tallest she’d worn so far, and when Gon came into the room and stood beside her, the top of her head was level with his ears. 

“Wow, you’re taller,” he said, smiling. He wore a simple black shirt, black trousers, and a beige coat. It was the perfect, understated match for her more colorful outfit. 

They were going to a children’s party. The Minister of Social Welfare’s first granddaughter was celebrating her 100th day with 100 kids and 100 elderly folks. The kids and elderly were from indigent families, orphans, or completely alone. The ministry--with backing from the palace-- would establish these children and elderly in school and housing. 

“You look like a doll. Perfect for a little girl’s Baek-il.” 

He must have seen the change in her face, because he put an arm around her shoulders and said, “You’re beautiful. You look absolutely fine. Too fine.” He frowned at their reflection at the mirror, specifically at her legs. “Maybe you should change into trousers.” 

She backhanded him on the stomach. 

It was very light but he groaned and doubled over. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot!” She stroked his stomach over his shirt. She had hit him there that morning in their spar. She hugged him and it felt good to be able to place her chin and laugh over his shoulder without having to tiptoe. 

“Try not to hit me in this sore spot until it heals, woman,” he said against her hair, which was down with the waves enhanced. “I’m already your dresser. Let’s not show them I’m also your punching bag.”

“Why didn’t you dodge?” It was a kick and he had to have seen it coming. He had been too winded earlier to answer when she’d asked, and she had been too busy checking if she’d cracked his rib to insist. When she was sure he was only bruised, she’d gone to get ice and forgot her question. 

Gon leaned back from her. “You really don’t know?”

She shook her head. 

“You were wearing tights! I ban tights on our spars.”

She gaped at him and then laughed.

“Well, you’re the queen’s dresser. You can remove all my tights.”

It was his turn to gape and laugh, since it took her two seconds to realize and sputter, “I mean from my wardrobe! Remove them all from my wardrobe!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sejong University 9 billion grant really happened in 2002 and it really came from the Ministry of Science and Technology. 
> 
> Chung-cha means noble.   
> Patricia means noble.   
> This is for the Patricia in my life. 
> 
> Swoon, I just saw your comment and I think you’ll be happy with the coat hiding here. Hahaha.
> 
> Please leave a review and let me know what you think! This is a big chapter! I hope that makes up for the recent gap. More to come!


	14. The Heartbeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One dark day for Corea, one terrifying day for Gon and Tae-eul, but life goes on.   
> When it's fate, there are no coincidences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Directly follows: 
> 
> Corea News: The queen of Corea stuns in London and   
> Corea News: A dark day for Corea
> 
> I’m so sorry. When I dropped A Dark Day for Corea last Friday, I meant to get this done the next day and not prolong the suspense. But I underestimated it. Sunday came and went and I wasn’t done. 
> 
> I spent all weekend finishing this so I couldn’t reply to you guys either. I mean, what could I say to you all wailing at me except that I’m writing, which I should DO, not say, right? 
> 
> So here it is. 11,000 words. Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoy. 
> 
> With thanks to @collectsfallenstars and @pateetsie for support and threats and encouragements and threats and confidence and threats and all the love and swearing at me. 

* * *

November was more beautiful in Corea. Perhaps it was unfair to make the comparison because Corea just happened to be closer to the tropics, closer to the sun, farther from the frozen winds of the north, but she couldn’t help it, even if she did have one sunny day in London and that was considered lucky, Elizabeth had told her, especially in November! 

No, lucky was living in this beautiful country, coming home to her husband, and with the view of all these red and gold trees outside the car window. 

And she had breakfast ready when she got home. She grinned. She thought about calling Gon again but he was probably busy cooking, and she didn't want him to time her arrival. She'd already ruined her own surprise by giving in and calling him earlier. 

“Jangmi, did you tell your omma we’re home?” 

“Ye, Mama. And she says she’s got cheonggukjang ready for us.” 

Both Tae-Eul and In-Yeong said, “Oh my God.” They laughed. Jangmi’s mother’s cheonggukjang was a hit among the guards-- and the king and queen.

And after days of British food, chonggukjang would be heavenly. 

“Don’t tell Ho-pil until we’ve all had some,” said In-yeong. “I don’t know how he makes it disappear so fast. Maybe he has a black hole in his stomach and he just pours it in.”

They were still laughing when Tae-Eul saw it. The other car. 

It was barrelling through the left of the intersection too fast. Too fast to make the turn it should make. 

And then, in contrast to that speeding car, everything else went slow. 

In this slower time, Tae-Eul recognized several things. 

One: Jangmi was a good defensive driver and had already slowed and stopped the car. 

Two: The other car could have crossed the road, perhaps grazing their front bumper, but it could have gone past all the same. 

Three: The driver of the other car was too senseless to see the opportunity Jangmi provided to avoid collision. In the grip of panic and trying to control his car, Tae-eul saw him wrenching at the steering wheel with both arms in a mindless attempt to make his turn. Even though it was too late. Even though there was no room. 

Four: At that speed, at that trajectory, the other car would nosedive into the side of their car. 

Tae-Eul laid both arms across her lower belly and prayed to God and the fate that brought her here. Was lashing out praying? Because she lashed out in shock and anger that this would happen to her, to Gon, their child. 

Maybe God heard her, or maybe it was her mind playing tricks to help her cope-- the crash was deafening but it was like a gentle rocking when it came. 

It was what happened after that was terrifying. 

Tae-Eul felt her seatbelt simultaneously loosen and tighten around her. For half a second, she was buffeted bodily against nothing but air before she felt secure again. There was a terrible noise like thunder right inside her ears and something slammed onto her face, stunning as a well-placed uppercut. 

She was blinded and her eyes burned. 

She tried to see what had happened to Jangmi and In-Yeong but she cried out at the pain and shut her eyes tight and kept both arms over her pelvis. A firebrand shot through her left shoulder and she cried out again but she kept her arms where they were. 

That was when she prayed. With her eyes watering and burning and her ears ringing, she begged to be safe. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

_“How are you? It’s not too cold?”_

_“No. Or maybe I’m just hot. Go back to sleep. I’m going to bed, too.”_

_“Have you had anything to eat?”_

_“I had ban-ban on the plane. Go to sleep. I’ll call you when I wake up. Saranghae.”_

_“Saranghae.”_

_\----------------------------------------------------------------------_

_“I loved the music and the story but I was honestly so sleepy. It lasted more than two hours. In-yeong had to poke me several times. I lost count after the sixth one. Stop laughing. I bet you fall asleep watching it before it even gets good.”_

_“Go to sleep. I’ll call you again on your morning.”_

_“What are you making for your breakfast?”_

_“Nothing special. Just eggs and tofu and I have kaktugi.”_

_“Mmmm. I miss that.”_

_“I miss you. Go to sleep.”_

_\-----------------------------------------------------------------------_

_“Don’t worry so much. Just think of her as any old ahjumma.”  
_

_“Are you crazy? She’s the queen.”_

_“No, she’s not. Not to me. Not to the kingdom missing you. You’re_ the _queen here. She’s a queen. You’re a queen. You’re equals.”_

_“I’m wrinkling my nose at that but I miss you. You should have come with me.”_

_“You said--”_

_“What do you want me to bring you?”_

_“Nothing. Just come home.”_

_"How cheesy."_

_\---------------------------------------------------------------------_

_“How was the food?”_

_“Quite good. I’ve had Angus roast, fish and chips, a full English breakfast-- the sausages here are good, maybe I can bring some-- scones and clotted cream-- I need you or the cooks to learn to make that-- cottage pie, shepherd’s pie, crumpets, and this thing they call Welsh rarebit? It’s cheese and toast. And I loved the vegetables in my salads._

_“And the milk and cream here--I think it tastes a little bit like Corea’s. It’s so creamy and delicately sweet._

_“I love their chocolate. Cadbury’s. I think we have it at home, right? Should I order more?_

_“I forgot to tell you-- I almost drank alcohol at brunch when they sent more dishes and apple cider to our table with the chef’s compliments. In-Yeong thought it was juice too. They forgot I was pregnant. I was taking a sip and it didn’t smell and taste like alcohol but Elizabeth took my glass and told me it can be quite strong here._

_“I can’t wait to eat ramyeon, though. And ban-ban. I’ll have them when I’m on the plane. What are you laughing at?”_

_“You talked for five minutes about food.”_

_“That wasn’t five minutes!”_

_“I love you. I miss you so much. I’ll see you in… sixteen hours.”_

_“I can’t wait.”_

_“To see me? Or for ban-ban and ramyeon?”_

_“Take a guess.”_

_\--------------------------------------------------------------------------_

_“I’m here.”_

_“What?”_

_“I flew earlier. I wanted to surprise you. I’ll just drive over. Jangmi was on the phone with Yeong long before we landed so I’m sure they’ve arranged things for the escort.”_

_“But I was going to pick you up-- all right. I’ll see you here, then. Do you want breakfast?”_

_“Oh do I! I want everything. I want moo saengchae and galbi and my mouth is watering and I can’t talk anymore. Stop laughing.”_

_“I’ll make everything. Saranghae.”  
_

_“Nado saranghae.”_

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gon clung to her voice in his head while everything else seemed to ring and clamor in an infuriating barrage of noise.

He had been talking to her less than an hour ago. 

Less than an hour ago, his only thought had been kissing his wife, making breakfast, and holding his wife, his queen, the mother of his child, the best part of his life.

Now he couldn’t get enough air. His mouth was dry and he felt like he’d be violently ill. His hands were fists on his knees and he resisted the urge to thump something. 

He prayed. He listened to her voice from their last conversations together and he prayed. He sat there in the back of his car and prayed as they sped to the hospital. He begged that they weren't his last conversations with her. Begged for her safety. Her safety was his child’s. Both of them had to be safe. He begged to hear that voice again soon. Now. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Yeong sat in the front seat and tried not to let his brain spirale. He needed facts, not speculations and imaginings. In his ear, he could hear his team as they kept him up to date on every minute detail. Everyone was his eyes and ears. Yeong listened and tried to stay in the present, not any horrendous future. He was trained to look ten steps ahead. But it was difficult in this case. His brain refused to catalogue the unthinkable. 

The king was quiet in the back seat, still as pale as when Yeong first told him what had happened. 

The queen was supposed to arrive at ten this morning. Yeong already had plans in place for the escort going to the airport and back, because the king wanted to pick up the queen. 

Nine am and the PA office would have given word to the media whether or not the press could gather at the airport. Yeong had already coordinated with the airport authority for traffic and crowd control as a contingency. 

He would have received a brief from the PA office and given a brief to the teams at eight-thirty. 

Before seven o’clock, his phone rang. Jangmi told him the queen’s jet was already approaching Corean airspace and the early arrival was supposed to be a surprise for the king. It was testament to how much Yeong had changed-- or how much he had gotten used to the king and queen anyway-- that he didn’t even sigh. He just ended the call, made another, and deployed Ho-pil’s team to the airport in their SUVs. 

At eight o’clock, Ho-Pil called him. 

“Seonsaengnim. Code Orange. Collision with civilian vehicle. The queen seems to not have major external trauma. No... bleeding. En route to CorGen now. Civilian in custody. Also en route to CorGen under escort. Jang and Park also injured. En route to CorGen.”

A pause. Yeong couldn’t speak and Ho-pil seemed to be catching his breath. And Yeong stupidly waited for the punchline. That he was being pranked. Dumb and dangerous prank, but a prank all the same. But all Ho-pil said next was, “Captain, that fucker was fucking soused. I could smell him when they loaded him on the ambulance. I wish I could kill him.” 

Yeong closed his eyes and tried not to close both fists. Wouldn’t do to break his phone right now. “You said she’s not bleeding?” They both knew the significance of what he meant. 

“No. But after examining her for a bit, they sedated her. They said it was because she couldn’t breathe properly and her heart was already working too hard, which would be bad for both of them. She has a bad friction burn on her left cheek from the airbag. The other windows all held except Jangmi's so the queen didn’t have lacerations. In-Yeong broke her wrist. And Jangmi took a real beating. When they were getting him out, they were so careful, but he still cried out. Never heard him make that noise before. And they both couldn’t hear me, Captain.” 

Yeong took a deep breath. Ho-pil’s report gave him information and time enough to get back his wits and his sense of duty. It was his queen, not his friend. Not his best friend’s wife. And he had to go tell his king, not his best friend. 

“CorGen knows to keep quiet when it’s the royal family. And they know protocol. Don’t let her out of your sight.” 

“Yes, Seonsaengnim. And the EMTs already called Seonsaeng Chae. I’ll call you with updates if you don’t join us first.” 

Yeong hung up. He must have drooped during the call because he realized he had to square his shoulders as he went to find the king. He was almost relieved when the king wasn’t in his suite. To make things simple, he asked the control tower where the king had gone. With the queen away, he could be anywhere. 

The control tower answered quickly: The kitchen. 

Right. Of course. The queen had probably already called him. 

When he entered the kitchen, the king was laying a slab of meat on the grill pan. 

“Yeong-ah. We don’t need to leave. She’s already on her wa--” 

One look at Yeong’s face and the king stopped talking. In quick, efficient movements, the king turned everything off, wiped his hands on a towel, and rounded the counter. “What happened?” His voice was clipped and dangerous. 

Yeong told him. He saw the color drain from the king’s face with every word. 

And then there wasn’t really anything else to say other than, “The car’s ready.” 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

CorGen was used to VIPs. This hospital was where high society wanted to be treated. They had six VIP rooms and these went to ministers and their families, athletes, actors, chaebol owners, heirs and executives. 

Royalty was a different level altogether. With the queen pregnant and seeing a CorGen doctor, they’ve opened the seventh VIP room. It was reserved for the royal family, always had been since the hospital opened, but the king had never used it yet in his lifetime. 

While the hospital preened at the prestige of opening VIP 7 at last, no one had imagined VIP 7 would ever be needed yet. 

Because the queen was only at fifteen weeks. 

So when the full force of the Royal Guard arrived at the ER, there was a momentary stupefaction as if everyone was waiting for someone to tell them what to do, or to tell them it was just a tasteless, dangerous joke: it couldn’t really be the queen in that gurney. 

Song-eun, arriving at the ER to attend to the queen, saw that freeze. She had frozen herself. She didn’t realize she’d stopped breathing until she exhaled when she saw the queen wasn’t bleeding. She had expected the worst. 

And then everyone moved in sync. 

They wheeled the queen straight to the prepared trauma room and surrounded her while the EMT and residents rattled off vitals and conditions. Airway and breathing good. Hypotensive because of vasodilation, CO at 45% higher than normal, right, they would fix that. The queen was already on oxygen and fluids. Pulse ox was stabilizing. 

“Mama, I’m here. You’re with me,” Song-eun said to Tae-eul, this queen who had made Song-eun a friend, a sister. “I’m going to take care of you and the little bean.” 

Sok-jun joined her with two other attendings--neuro and trauma--and they all rattled off directions to their residents and interns. One of them took samples for the trauma panel and the KB test while Song-eun assessed the queen. 

“Mama, I’m going to perform a pelvic exam to check on you, okay?” 

Under the sheet, her hands moving efficiently, no blood, everything normal. Good. 

The queen was already in a neck brace, and she didn’t seem to have spinal injuries as the EMTs have said. The fetal HR monitor beeped steadily. Almost sixteen weeks. Could probably detect omma had been in trouble.

“Mama, you’re doing good so far. And the little bean isn’t upset either.” 

Sok-jun was finished with his own examination and did FAST again even though the EMT’s already did. Song-eun scanned the monitor alongside him. No free fluid. Good. He met Song-eun’s eyes and nodded and left. 

The neuro attending was already examining the queen’s eyes. Song-eun saw what he saw. “Reactive, symmetrical pupils.” Thank heavens. Good reaction to stimulus. “We can check for focal deficits later. Keep her stabilized.” 

Both of Tae-eul’s eyes were red with corneal abrasion and Song-eun winced. She gestured to one of the interns to administer antibiotic eye drops. 

“Get me that KB test result asap,” she said as Tae-eul got the polymyxin for her eyes and an ortho team looked at the queen’s legs, which had ugly bruises. But they were superficial. “Let’s use the Lodox right now and then take her to CT. Head and chest just to be sure." Neuro nodded. "Keep her asleep for another hour. Mom and baby are stable. Let’s keep it that way.” 

She’d just only noticed and recognized Seok Ho-pil when he spoke. He had stood quietly at the door, not getting in the way, but not relenting to be pushed out either. 

“Seonsaengnim, forgive me-- are all those safe for Her Majesty? The CT and the Lodox? What’s the KB test? And can she hear you? I thought she was sedated so she won’t be distressed?”

Song-eun nodded. “We talk to patients under sedation. Sometimes they can hear us. And no, she’s not in distress or in pain, don’t worry. And yes, everything’s safe. Absolutely. I want the CT of her head and chest because that’s where the airbags hit. The Lodox is a full body scan, very safe, low-dose x-ray. I don’t want to miss any injury at all. The Lodox will see if there’s any and we can determine if we need more imaging done then. The KB test is to check if and how much the baby’s hemoglobin transferred to the mother’s bloodstream and we can prevent the potential of Rhesus disease if mom and baby have different Rh blood factors.” 

She looked at the rest of the Royal Guard, all listening intently. They were probably privy to the fact that the queen was a rare B negative. It was why Song-eun had been so afraid if the queen was bleeding. Only 1 in 3000 Coreans matched Tae-eul’s Rhesus negative blood. She could take O-neg, but if she needed platelets… Song-eun shuddered. At least she hadn’t slipped and informed the entire room. But the entire room would probably be under NDAs in a matter of minutes. 

She could see eight guards in total, scattered in the ER lobby, gathering stares from everyone, and three had already moved ahead, probably to check the Diagnostics Room where the Lodox was. 

And then suddenly there were more black suits almost completely covering up the seafoam walls of the hospital. 

Song-eun stepped out of the trauma room and came face to face with the king. 

She had faced her share of devastated husbands in her career and she hoped she never had to look at the king looking like that again. This was her king and her namdongsaeng and it was heartbreaking to see him so terrified. 

She broke protocol and spoke first. “Pyeha, we’re still about to confirm with CT and Lodox about the queen’s injuries, but the baby seems to be fine right now and the queen has passed all tests so far. We just need to confirm and keep them both stable. We’ll do our best. We have everything we need here.” 

The king didn’t speak, just stepped past her and into the room. His eyes landed on the monitors and then on the queen. Song-eun was glad everyone had been prompt and fastidious about keeping the queen under a warm sheet. 

As it was, the king only saw the queen’s face, with those angry red patches on her left cheek and jaw. The king took a deep shuddering breath and released it, hands rising and fingertips pressing to his eyes. 

Song-eun looked away. 

She nodded to the orderlies scattered like discarded umbrellas because of the arrival of the Royal Guard. They were easy to spot in their lilac scrubs in the mass of black suits. The two closest bowed to the guards on the way, bowed to the king, bowed to the queen, and then pushed and pulled the gurney. 

The king startled as if he was going to grab the gurney but stopped himself. Song-eun laid a hand on his arm, and he jumped again. 

Song-eun pressed her hand on his arm more firmly. “We’re taking Her Majesty to the Lodox and then to CT. You can come with us if you like, Pyeha.”

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

Ok-nam watched Mo Jin-ha burst into tears and wished she could just as easily let go like that. But she couldn’t, she never had, and one of these days, it might kill her, but she wasn’t going to faint this time. 

Not until she heard something that would really make her faint. 

“I’m sorry-- it’s just-- you know how much I struggled before I finally had Woo-jin and this is-- this is awful.” 

Ok-nam patted Jin-ha on the shoulder. Poor Jin-ha had had three miscarriages. It was why she was here, crying, instead of following the king to CorGen. Woo-jin was her little miracle, but the loss of her other children still stung. Would always do. 

“Hush now. Let’s wait and pray. We should hear from them any moment now. And you need to make an announcement before rumors spread.” 

Jin-ha nodded, wiping tears and straightening her spine. Ok-nam turned to the two policemen who had arrived, hoping to get a statement here but instead seeing the press secretary lose the composure she was famous for.

“Drink your tea, gentlemen,” Ok-nam said. “You do have colleagues who went to the hospital?”

“Yes, ma’am. But if we could get a statement from you--when you hear from them-- then we wouldn’t need to disturb Their Majesties.”

Jin-ha gave another sob. “Oh, the poor queen. She loves that baby so much-- I hope she doesn’t--” 

Ok-nam thumped a hand on her chabudai and Jin-ha and both men jumped. “Stop that,” Ok-nam said, ignoring how her heart thumped mournfully and fearfully in her chest. “Don’t think that. Don’t speak of that.” 

The phone rang and they all jumped again. Ok-nam answered it just as Seung-ah arrived and knelt beside her. 

“Captain Jo, what has--” 

“Lady Noh. The queen is fine. No major injuries. They’re still monitoring the queen and the baby. The king is with her. They’re getting her scans.” Ok-nam closed her eyes and sagged in relief. Jin-ha gave a sob of relief and Ok-nam shushed her. 

“Seung-ah has the accident footage so you can see,” Jo Yeong continued over the phone. “We’ve already released it to the police. Jangmi has a clavicle fracture and rib fractures and In-yeong has a broken wrist, three fractured fingers, bruised ribs.”

Poor Jangmi and In-yeong. “Do you-- do you have that driver?”

“Yes.” And that was all Yeong said. Ok-nam heard rage in that calm voice. _She_ felt rage herself. “I’ve sent all information to Secretary Mo. She can make the statement at her discretion. I’ll update you.” 

Ok-nam put the phone back in its cradle. Seung-ah, pale-faced and pale-lipped, raised her iPad but Ok-nam turned away. 

“Are you mad? I don’t want to see it. Show it to these gentlemen.” 

Jin-ha seemed to have already received the same footage and the information Captain Jo mentioned in her iPad, and judging by her gasping over the screen, Ok-nam made the right decision not to look at the footage. 

“I’m going to pray.” 

She took a private, empty, circuitous route so she wouldn’t trail anxious and hysterical court maids and court ladies. She had no time and no patience to comfort anyone. 

In the kitchen garden amongst the onggi, her tears surprised her. She wiped them almost angrily. 

There was no call for tears yet. 

She bowed and prayed. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

_The sound is not unlike galloping horses. Maybe galloping horses on the coast, because he can also hear a swishing noise like the wind and the surf._

_Tae-eul is laughing. “It’s so loud and fast! Are you crying?”_

_“No.” He blinks his eyes and sniffs as quietly as he can. He sees Song-eun biting her lips and looking amused as she holds the Doppler against Tae-eul’s belly._

_Tae-eul squeezes his hand. He moves his eyes away from the ultrasound screen just as she also does. Their eyes meet, and his breath stutters a bit because her eyes are at their most beautiful yet since he met her._

_He kisses her hand. And with their child's heartbeat drumming in the background, they grin at each other._

\------------------------------------------------------------------ 

Gon listened to it more times than he'd admit. It was in his playlist for cooking breakfast. He even danced to it in the shower. Tae-eul had caught him at it one time and had laughed so hard and so long she had to sit on the floor.

She didn’t tease him about it, but she invariably looked at him and giggled whenever anyone brought up the baby’s heartbeat or when she listened to the file in her own phone. 

He stopped the audio file and put his phone back in his pocket. The beeps of the two heart rate monitors were discordant and so different from the rhythmic gallop and swish of his baby’s real heartbeat but he let those beeps deafen him to everything else. 

He kissed Tae-eul’s hand and wished her awake. 

She was so pale against the cream sheets on the bed. She now had bandages over her cheek and jaw. Her eyelids were rimmed with red. Her brows were slightly furrowed. She wasn’t tranquil in her sleep. 

They’d told him she wasn’t in pain. What scared him was if she was trapped in some nightmare after the terrifying experience she just went through. 

It had been almost an hour or so since the tests were done. The CT and the Lodox both found a hairline fracture on her left clavicle. 

They’d put her arm in a sling for that and kept her in the neck brace in case of whiplash. Everything else seemed fine. Her head, her spine. Until she woke up and complained of what else hurt, they had no way of knowing, apart from the bad bruising on her left shoulder, on her toes, and on the front of her shins when her legs might have flown and hit against the front seat. 

Her blood pressure was back to normal. They’d told him she had been distressed--in the emotional term-- when the ambulance arrived, her heart rate too fast and her breathing erratic, which was why they sedated her and put her on oxygen immediately. 

He just knew why she’d been so anxious and afraid. 

Song-eun walked into the room and Gon blinked back the sting in his eyes. “Noona.” 

“Pyeha. You know Her Majesty is Rhesus negative. We can confirm now that Little bean is Rhesus positive, just like you. We found some hemoglobin of little bean’s in the queen’s circulation so I’m giving her the RhoGAM now.” 

Gon watched Song-eun administer the shot on Tae-eul’s arm. 

So he saw it when Tae-eul grabbed Song-eun’s hand. 

“Mama, you’re awake. How are you feeling? I just gave you a RhoGAM shot. We talked about it before.” 

Gon got up and Tae-eul saw him. She let go of Song-eun and reached for him with both hands at first, but both hands went to her belly below her navel, where the fetal HR monitor’s attachments were. 

The vital signs monitor made a harsh protest. Tae-eul’s heart rate was spiking. 

Gon said, “Tae-eul, you’re all right, the baby’s okay.” 

She looked at him and opened her mouth to speak but made an expression of pain, touched her jaw, and cried out when she discovered the raw skin of her burn there. 

Gon grabbed her hands in his, looked into her eyes and said, “Tae-eul. You’re all right. The baby’s all right.” 

She just looked at him as if she couldn’t understand him. And she was already crying. 

Gon stared at her. Why wasn’t she-- and then it clicked. She was probably still deaf from the airbags. He looked at Song-eun and she had obviously come to the same conclusion. She tapped her ears, and then pointed and nodded at the fetal monitor, already rounding the bed to get to it herself. 

Gon beat her to it. He let go of Tae-eul with one hand and reached for the fetal monitor to turn the screen toward Tae-eul. His movement was enough to make Tae-eul look in that direction, turning her head as much as she could in the brace. 

Gon returned both hands to cradle hers. He bent down to press his lips against her fingertips. He could feel himself shaking with relief now that she was awake. 

She looked at the fetal monitor for long moments. The vital signs monitor quieted but her crying continued. Gon bent over her and gently took her in his arms without actually lifting her up. He snaked one arm under her waist and the other arm under her side. She sobbed against his shoulder and he felt her grip the back of his pullover. 

He pressed his cheek against her hair, glad she was awake, his heart breaking a little with each sob. She shouldn’t have had to go through this. This much fear. This much worry. 

Her sobs slowly stopped until she was only taking deep shuddering breaths. Gon gently pulled back his arms, kissed her uninjured cheek, and wiped her eyes, careful not to actually go near her eyelids with the tissues. 

Song-eun caught Tae-eul’s attention. As if she hadn’t just witnessed a breakdown, Song-eun spoke and gestured at the same time, and she enunciated carefully so that even Gon saw her words as much as heard them. 

“Tae-eul. Look at me. Baby is here--” Song-eun cupped both hands low on her belly, over her pelvis. “Airbag was here--” Song-eun pointed both open palms on her shoulders and mimed the slam of the airbags over her face and shoulders with a slamming movement of her hands. 

“So baby is safe. Okay?” She turned to Gon. “And your car was awesome. God. I have to get one of those.” 

“I’ll buy you one,” Gon said, without taking his eyes off Tae-eul. She had calmed down, wincing and squinting with her eyes, looking between them and the fetal monitor. 

Song-eun nudged him away from Tae-eul’s side and took his place, sitting beside Tae-eul’s hip and leaning forward to Tae-eul. She held up her index finger. “Follow the finger, Mama. Good. Okay. I’m going to use my light.” She shone that light in and out of Tae-eul’s eyes. Then she placed both her palms under Tae-eul’s. “Pyeha, show her to push on my hands. I saw how she gripped your sweater but I want to make sure.”   
  


Gon mimed bearing down with his hands. Tae-eul pushed. Next, Song-eun mimed making fists with both hands. Tae-eul did that, too. Song-eun swiveled her hips on the bed so she faced the window, leaned back on her hands, and extended and raised her legs, one after the other. Tae-eul did the same. 

Song-eun smiled and squeezed Tae-eul’s hands. “Good, good. Just need to wait for your ears to come back. They’ll be back in a bit. You’re good.” 

Gon nudged Song-eun aside and she willingly went, smiling. He pushed the button on the side panel and raised Tae-eul’s bed gently, watching her face for any discomfort from her fracture.

Then when she was more or less sitting up, he leaned forward and hugged her as gently as he could, kissed her on the forehead and on her right cheek. He felt her arms close around his waist, and he pulled back before she tried to raise her arms higher. He didn’t want her to strain her fracture. 

He enunciated like he saw Song-eun do, not exaggerated but clearly defining each syllable. “Are you all right? Does anything hurt?” 

Her eyes went from his lips to his eyes. She spoke carefully now, testing how much her jaw would let her do. “Why can’t I hear you?” 

Gon said, “The airbags.” 

Song-eun said, “It’s temporary. Around sixteen to forty-eight hours. Is there a ringing noise?”

It took three tries before Tae-eul understood the question, then she shook her head no. 

“Oh, good. I’m glad you don’t have tinnitus.” Song-eun cast another long look at the vital signs monitor, smiled at Tae-eul, retrieved the empty syringe she’d dropped when Tae-eul grabbed her, and left, saying she’ll be back later. 

“Did you catch that? She said your deafness will last overnight or two days.” 

Tae-eul nodded. Then she looked past him at the fetal monitor again, blinking, her eyes spilling tears. Her hands went up to her eyes and Gon stopped her hands before they made contact. She looked at him, wincing. “My eyes hurt.”   
  
“I know. I’m sorry. That’s from the airbags, too. Here, noona gave me your eye drops.” 

If she didn’t catch that, she quickly understood when he came back to her side with the bottle he’d fetched from her bedside table. Tae-eul being Tae-eul, she tried to be helpful. When she couldn’t tilt her head back at all in the neck brace, she tried anyway. “Ow.” She looked down at her shoulder and her sling as if discovering it for the first time.

Gon used her bed’s recliner and applied the eye drops. 

“You have a crack on your clavicle. So don’t move your shoulder or your arms. Does your neck hurt? We’re not sure if you have some muscle strain there.” 

“Will you just use your phone? Or find a pen and paper. A… a whiteboard and marker. I’m getting tired trying to read your lips.” 

That return of her spirit made him smile. He put down the bottle of eye drops and started writing on her palm instead. And grinned when she also smiled. 

But when he was done, her lips were trembling and her face was twisting. She reached for him without raising her hands much from her lap. 

Carefully so he wouldn’t jolt her injuries, he moved forward where he sat on her right. He slid his arm around her waist and gently pulled her close. She sighed and entirely rested her right side against him. 

“I can’t believe it. Just-- just my collarbone?” 

He nodded. It wasn’t _just_ her collarbone, but he could elaborate later. 

“I was so scared. I thought it would be worse--” 

“Me too.” He wrote the hangul on her palm. 

“What about Jangmi and In-yeong?”

“They’re okay, but they have fractures. They’re in surgery to fix them.” 

“Oh no. Fractures where?” 

“I don’t really know yet. I’ve been with you all this time.” 

“They’re going to be so frustrated,” Tae-eul said. “They’ll have to be off-duty.” 

“Well, you’ll also be off-duty. You can all be off-duty together.”

“Talk again.” 

“What is it?”

She pressed her hand against his chest. “I can feel your voice.”

“Oh. It’s the vibrations.” 

She pressed her fingertips at his throat. “I feel your voice better here. Say something.”

“Saranghae. I was scared to death. I’m grateful you’re all right. Are you really all right?” 

She nodded, eyes spilling tears again. “You and Song-eun said I am.” And her eyes flicked to the fetal monitor. 

Gon sighed and held her closer. 

“And you’re sure the baby’s all right? What did Song-eun say?” 

This time, he took his phone out of his pocket and typed on it with his arms around her. 

> _She said we’re lucky you’re only almost 16 weeks. The baby’s still small, and the layers of protection are thicker than if you were further along. You did have to get a RhoGAM shot now, and Song-eun says she’ll monitor the baby for Rhesus disease from now on._

Tae-eul was nodding as she read his screen. The Rhesus incompatibility situation wasn’t new to them. They’d learned about it in her first screenings. 

> _Do you have other questions?_

Tae-eul stiffened a little in his arms, and Gon thought she was finally going to ask about the driver. Gon had been trying not to think of him either. He had focused on Tae-eul, but now that she was awake and asking questions, the driver was invading his thoughts. 

He still didn’t know much aside from the fact that he was completely drunk. 

However, after relaxing in his arms again, Tae-eul poked the top right of his phone screen and said, “It’s almost eleven. Why am I not hungry? I haven’t eaten in twelve hours.”

Gon exhaled a laugh. He kissed her hair. He loved this woman. He typed, _You ate at eleven pm?_

“Don’t go there.” 

Still smiling, he typed, I think they gave you something in your IV so you won’t feel acidic and hungry in case you stayed asleep longer. And they gave you vitamins and other essentials. I’ll go ask if you can eat. 

He gently maneuvered her back onto her bed. She sighed against her pillow and then looked at the fetal monitor again. Her eyes suddenly went droopy, and Gon knew her adrenaline spike after waking up had worn off now that she knew their baby was safe. And her eyes were probably tired anyway. With her corneal abrasions, sleeping would do her good. 

“Hold off on the food,” she said as she closed her eyes. “But get me my kalbi.”

Gon pushed the bed’s button again and put the bed back in full recline. He pressed a kiss on her forehead, and then on her lips, lingering there for several long moments. He loved her, he had missed her, and today he’d nearly lost her. 

When they parted, she said, “Saranghae.”

“Nado.” 

He didn’t leave her, of course. Gon dropped on the armchair and took several deep breaths, exhaling quietly. His relief sent him doubling over, elbows on his knees, and he thanked God over and over. A litany of Gamsahabnida. 

Then he leaned back on the armchair and just looked at her. Now her face no longer looked pinched, as if she was truly sleeping now. Once he was sure she was in deep sleep, Gon hit 3 on his phone. 

“Yeong. Ask Dr Chae if Tae-eul can eat. She’s asleep now but she asked about food.” 

“Ye, Pyeha.” And before Gon could ask, Yeong added, “My report is in the Drive. I have a lead so I’m about to leave, Pyeha. We’ll continue updating the doc.” 

“All right. Thank you.” 

Gon took a deep breath and navigated to the Drive. He wasn’t about to leave Tae-eul’s side and Yeong couldn’t deliver the report personally, so this Drive folder, usually for documentation only and something Gon had never looked at, came in handy. 

He saw the thumbnail of the footage and his jaw clenched. As king and sovereign justice, he had to watch it. 

He watched Jangmi approach the intersection defensively, not crossing it even with the light on green because of that suspicious oncoming white car from the left. 

He watched the white car barrel through the intersection-- other cars swerving to a halt. 

He watched his wife’s car stop beyond the path of the white car, just like all other cars had done. 

He watched the white car swerve for no reason at the last second and ram into his wife’s car, even though practically all the cars had given it a clear path across. 

He watched it twice and closed the video before his blood boiling made him throw his phone at the wall. 

He could feel his jaw trembling with rage and he swore under his breath to release some of his anger. It made him feel dirty even though Tae-eul was asleep and couldn’t have heard him. He rubbed his hands over his face and looked at Tae-eul, letting the sight of her calm him. 

He opened the report next. Aside from details that he already knew, like the time and location of the collision, and Tae-eul’s condition at the time of the ambulance response, it now included photos of Jangmi’s and In-yeong’s x-rays and Yeong’s notes. 

Jang Mi-reuk: 

  * lacerations on the face, neck and arm (left)
  * Type 1 distal clavicle fracture (left)
  * Type A oblique rib fractures (left posterior 4th, 5th and 6th ribs) 
  * Type B transverse rib fracture (left posterior 7th rib)
  * 30% pneumothorax (left lung) 
  * severe bruising on the left side
  * sensorineural hearing loss and tinnitus (prognosis: temporary)



Park In-yeong: 

  * bruised ribs (left)
  * distal radius fracture (right) 
  * displaced, mid-shaft and intra-articular fractures of the phalanges (left little finger, ring finger and middle finger)
  * sensorineural hearing loss (prognosis: temporary)



Gon was glad Jangmi wasn’t worse. He was the only one on the left side of the car, the side of the collision. The other car had rammed the queen’s car a little behind Jangmi’s seat, and even with the car’s airbags and collision safety technology, look at all those broken bones. And his lung had collapsed. 

Yeong’s report says they didn’t know how exactly In-yeong broke her wrist and fingers. Probably from slamming them against something during the crash. 

Damn. And it was In-yeong’s right wrist. She wouldn’t be able to shoot a gun for weeks. The little crack shot wouldn’t like that. 

The next page was about the driver. 

Gon read it all but the only thing that stood out was the blood alcohol concentration. The driver weighed 160 pounds with .25 BAC. 

That was beyond driving under the influence. Influence was about a quarter of the man’s blood alcohol level. What the driver did was practically-- 

Gon’s brain supplied _manslaughter_. He closed his eyes. No one had died. But someone could have. _Someone could have_. And if Gon hadn’t bought the safest car in the world, or if Jangmi simply chose any of the other cars in the fleet, where would Gon be right now? 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

“SPEAK UP! I ASKED YOU WHAT HAPPENED TO THE QUEEN AND YOU HAVE TO ANSWER ME!”

Ho-pil gestured to Dong-min and ran to VIP 6, the VIP room where he could hear Jangmi bellowing. He found the man shouting at his nurse from his bed by the window. 

On the other bed, In-yeong was awake and looking mournful. When she saw Ho-pil, she said, “I can’t hear it but it’s hurting my eardrums. How’s the queen?”

Ho-pil gave her two thumbs up. Queen was okay. Baby was okay. In-yeong sighed and then winced when that action jogged her ribs. 

Ho-pil marched over to Jangmi, who was still bellowing like a wounded bull. 

He _was_ a wounded bull. His face, neck and arms were bandaged, his torso was bandaged and in thick braces. He also had a bandage over his clavicle where his surgery incision was. His left arm was in a sling secured with straps to keep his shoulder immobile. 

When he saw Ho-pil, he stopped shouting. But he was still yelling. Ho-pil winced. “Sunbaenim. How’s the queen?”

Ho-pil repeated the two thumbs up that worked with In-yeong. 

Jangmi burst into tears. 

“Should I have moved the car and tried to avoid it? It happened so fast. I should have done something.” 

Ahh shit. Poor Jangmi. Ho-pil pulled out his phone and typed rapidly. 

> _You did exactly what I would have done if I’d been the one at the wheel. This wouldn’t have happened if that other bastard wasn’t blind drunk. The queen is fine. She has a clavicle fracture like you, but not as bad. And there’s something about her getting the Rhesus injection thing because she has that rare negative blood type and the baby’s a positive. Don’t terrorize your nurses. They’re the ones who’ll give you food and pain meds._

He showed the screen to Jangmi and the great bull calmed down with every word, and then turned sheepish by the end. 

“I’m sorry, sunbaenim. Thank you. But I still want to apologize to the queen. Can we see the queen?” 

Ho-pil mouthed, “Can you get up?”

“Sure, if you help me.” 

“I’ll help you later. Rest for now. I think Their Majesties will let us know if they want to see--” 

Dong-min pounded on the open door and waved frantically at Ho-pil. “Seonsaengnim, the king wants--”

And then the king himself stepped into the room. 

They all bowed their heads. Not just out of respect. The king looked murderous. For some reason, Ho-pil had a flashback he couldn’t identify because he had never seen the king like this before, but his mind told him the king was dangerous when he looked like this. 

And contrary to Jangmi, the king spoke in quiet, precise syllables that made the hair on Ho-pil’s neck rise. 

“Sub-captain Seok. Captain Jo is already investigating that man.” Ho-pil heard disgust and knew the king wanted to call the man something else. Ho-pil already did in his own head. “He has a lead somewhere else. Now I want information on where that man drank all night. If it was an establishment, the owner, and the staff who served him. If it was a private party, who he was with. Call his employers or his employees.” 

“Ye, Pyeha. His family, too?” 

“We already know his family. Captain Jo sent it in. In any case, I don’t want testimony from anyone who might beg for him not to die.” 

“Ye, Pyeha.”

With a nod toward In-yeong and Jangmi, the king left. 

They waited ten seconds, and then In-yeong and Jangmi asked him what the king said. Ho-pil typed it on his phone and showed it first to In-yeong, and then to Jangmi. 

In-yeong had just looked vindictive. Jangmi spoke their thoughts aloud. Real loud. 

“HOLY SHIT.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A loud, grinding noise and the crash of metal against metal. 

The piercing shatter of glass breaking. The explosive full blast of airbags. Brakes squealing. 

Pain and burning on her eyes, her shoulder, her legs, everywhere. She struggled to part her eyelids but they wouldn’t cooperate beyond a small squint. She couldn’t see Jangmi and In-yeong at all. 

She couldn’t hear anything either. 

Someone was lifting her and she told them to be careful, she was pregnant, but if they heard her she had no idea-- she knew she was speaking but the way she heard herself was different. Was she dead and was it this quiet when you were dead? 

She couldn’t be dead-- she was going to have a baby. And Gon would be devastated. No, no. 

Suddenly, her eyes were open and she saw the car coming again as if to finish the job now that the paramedics had brought her out of the shelter of the car. 

Determined that it wouldn’t get her this time, she struggled against the paramedics and ran with all her might away from them all, away from that car. 

But it still hit her and she felt that gentle and violent rocking again. 

It made her ill. 

Suddenly, she realized she really was throwing up over a basin. Her eyes were really open. When she was done, she could see beyond the basin and her sheets. Cream sheets and blankets now being gently and efficiently changed around her by court maids in their familiar uniform. Leaf green walls and cream paneling and a big glass window showing the dimming light of sunset. 

She was in a hospital room, not a highway full of stopped traffic and one murderous car. 

Something cool and comforting was being pressed against the right side of her face. Comforting in contrast to the dull ache she felt in her legs and feet, her shoulder, her face. Everything hurt. 

Gon was beside her. He was the one holding the basin and the towel against her cheek. When he saw she was really done being sick, he passed the basin to a court maid, wiped Tae-eul’s mouth with the towel, and offered her a glass of water with a straw. 

Tae-eul sipped water and swallowed it with some difficulty past the sobs building in her chest and throat. She held off as long as she could, but they came out anyway. 

When she woke up this morning, she had cried with relief. She had been so afraid, so sure that she was about to be told she was no longer-- but then she felt the attachments on her belly and saw the fetal monitor and-- she cried with relief. 

Right now, she was crying from residual terror. She had been a detective. She knew what this was. Only, she had known and seen it happen to others. In colleagues, in witnesses, in suspects. 

Now she knew what it was like. And her detective’s brain tried to feed her with facts to ease her anguish. She focused her eyes on the fetal monitor. Her baby was fine. She was fine. She couldn’t hear but she was fine. She was in the hospital. She cracked her collarbone. But she was fine. The car hadn’t hurt her. Hadn’t hurt them. 

Gon was real, his arms around her, his hand stroking her hair soothingly, and his breath against her ear. 

The sick feeling in her stomach receded. Her heart slowed down. She clung to Gon’s arm and let herself fall back against him, on the familiar shelter of his shoulder. 

She pressed her lips together to close her mouth and stop crying. There was no need to carry on like this. She looked at Gon, drank him in with her eyes, and let that gaze and that nose and those lips and that jawline blot out the last vestiges of that car from behind her eyelids. 

But it frustrated her that she couldn’t hear his voice. She could feel his chest rumbling softly and his lips moving against her forehead but she heard nothing. 

He brought his face close to hers, gently tilting her chin so she could see him. She focused on his lips as they moved. “You’re all right. I’m here. Are you all right?” 

She nodded and shook her head. “Everything hurts.” 

Gon’s mouth curved down. “I’m sorry. Your medication should take effect soon. Noona gave you another dose some time ago. You’ll be fine.” 

She nodded, raising her right hand to cradle his neck. When he spoke again, she felt it against her palm. “Do you want to tell me about it? What woke you up? Was it the accident?”

She nodded again. “Just… I saw it all over again. And everything I heard then. I wish I could hear something else to push it out of my head.” 

Gon pulled some tissues from the box on her bedside table and gently dabbed at her cheeks, careful not to make contact with her eyes. 

He said, “I could sing to you. Maybe only feeling the vibrations on my throat would make it sound better.”

She caught all that from reading his lips and it made her smile. “Go on.” 

And Gon sang. An English song he’d heard her alternately sing and hum. It was like a lullaby. Soft, comforting, the notes rising and falling in smooth harmony. She could hear the song in her head, and her mind added the tune to Gon’s voice vibrating against her palm, drowning out that awful screech of metal. 

_“Moon river,_

_wider than a mile,_

_I’m crossing you in style some day.”_

Her stomach chose that moment to grumble. 

Gon stopped singing and looked at her. “I know I can’t sing as well as you, but that was rude.” 

Tae-eul laughed. 

“Come on. Let’s get you fed. You’ve had nothing but liquid nutrition all day.” 

As if listening for this, another court maid came in and laid a tray on the bed. Then she placed and uncovered a black and gold ceramic dosirak on top of it. Tae-eul smelled kimchi and kalbi and her mouth watered. 

Gon picked up the tray and placed it over her lap. She opened her mouth and he chuckled, taking a little bit of everything into a spoonful and bringing it to her mouth. 

“Good?”

“Really good. Did I lose my phone?”

Gon nodded. “It was on the seat behind Jangmi. Why?”

“Give me your phone.” 

She didn’t even have to navigate much. The file she wanted was on the homescreen. She played it at maximum volume. Nothing. 

She sighed. 

“You remember how it sounds, though, right?” Gon asked. 

Oh, she did. But she wanted to hear it, not remember it. 

She wanted that heartbeat to assure her, distract her, make her feel safe and happy again. And Gon’s voice. She needed his voice, too. 

They both ate the dosirak without talking much, both of them retreating inside their own heads, and then Gon helped her wash her face-- with wipes-- and brush her teeth-- with a basin. 

Maybe her pregnancy-safe painkillers still had narcotic side-effects, or maybe she was just tired out from everything. She drowsily played with Gon’s hand in her lap. 

She decided she couldn’t put it off any longer. “Gon. The driver.” 

He looked at her, and his gaze was still the same whenever he looked at her, but she saw the fury there, the hard and unforgiving glint. 

“Tell me about the driver.” 

He took his hand from hers, navigated his phone, and gave it to her with the document open. 

She scrolled past Yeong’s notes on her condition, on Jangmi’s and In-yeong’s, her heart squeezing at their injuries, and then there he was. His driver’s license. Kim Ae-go, 1977 08 29, Gijang-gun. 

The report had been updated an hour ago with priors. Several counts of DUI and possession, the first one when he was 16. When he was 19, he had crashed his car into a house, killing a cat and her four kittens. The case was settled. When he was 24, he had hit a 15-year-old kid on a bike and the kid was paralyzed from the waist down, but the case was settled. Five years later, he was tried for vehicular manslaughter-- a 17-year-old girl and her 10-year-old sister were killed-- but was acquitted. 

“I can’t believe this.” 

Gon looked at her, that glint in his eyes sharper now. 

“This... this son of a bitch is a menace.” 

Gon blinked. 

“Well, now that he has endangered the bloody queen and the heir, he has no chance of being acquitted, has he? You can even behead him.” She slammed his phone down on the bed. 

Gon stared at her, his eyes flickering between her and the vital signs monitor. 

“What? I suppose we can’t have him beheaded just because I was the one attacked this time. He should have been punished long ago. Just… just get him imprisoned for life. No parole.”

In response, Gon’s hand came to cradle her uninjured cheek, and then he was kissing her, pressing and stroking her lips with his, taking her lower lip in his mouth, pulling on it and teasing it with his tongue. 

Then he just lingered there with their lips brushing while they both breathed each other’s air. His eyes stared into hers, and the glint was still there, but it was a different kind. 

He kissed her again, just a quick but still persistent kiss, and then withdrew. 

He took his phone from where she’d slammed it on her bed covers-- now the silk from the palace-- and typed on it. He showed her the screen. 

> _I wanted him beheaded. But I suppose life imprisonment is more appropriate so he can properly reflect and pay for his sins. He’s already under lock and key in the hospital. No chance of being acquitted, no. And yes, life with no parole._
> 
> _Get better soon, my queen. I missed you. And I love you when you’re bloodthirsty._

She didn’t quite slam his phone down on the bed again, but it was still close. She felt ridiculous about it and glared at him. 

He was laughing as he pushed the button on her bed. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Gon was shaken, however. He watched Tae-eul asleep in the glow of the lamps, her face golden and beautiful and angelic. Was this Tae-eul’s purpose in his world? Not just a queen but a trap for pests? 

He opened his phone and tapped their favorite audio file almost automatically. The volume was still on the last setting by Tae-eul-- maximum-- and he didn’t lower it. He let it wash over him. 

It sounded like how his heart thundered in his ears that morning-- just that morning-- when Yeong told him Tae-eul had been in a car crash. 

It also sounded like a drum roll before an announcement. What would he announce? That the queen was taking a leave of absence? Could he send her--ask her--to stay in the republic and hope she was safe there? 

He grimaced at the stupidity and futility of that thought. 

His phone buzzed in his hand. It was Yeong. 

“Pyeha. I’m coming to your room and I’ll stay with the queen.”

“Why?”

“He’s awake. He remembers everything. And the Minister of Finance is here.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------

Ok-nam saw the sickle moon again in her dream. And just like before, it turned into a brilliant sun. 

She didn't know why that thrilled her and assured her but it did. 

She was just about to happily sink further in her dream and sleep when she felt herself being pulled to wakefulness. 

It was the phone. She answered it and heard the king’s voice just as what happened that day hit her. 

"How are you? Have they told you everything?" 

"Pyeha. How is the queen?" 

"Better. She's fine. They're both fine." Ok-nam sighed. "Lady Noh. Should one punish severely or well?" 

Ok-nam didn’t even have to think about it. “Do both. Always.” She dipped her head with emphasis even though the king, her little boy, couldn’t see her. “This is how you make things right. This is how you inspire other people to also always make things right.” 

“Hmm. You and your punishments that involve three generations.” 

Ok-nam raised her eyes to the ceiling. “I don’t really do that! You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do. Thank you.” 

\---------------------------------------------------------------

The Minister of Finance was prostrate before the king. 

This day was just full of surprises. Ho-pil had just arrived back at the hospital to make a report to the king when Captain Jo asked him to escort the minister to VIP 5. Ho-pil balked at that, disgusted that the minister and his asshole son were in the VIP wing right alongside the queen, but Yeong told him the entire VIP wing was currently occupied by the Royal Court. 

True to the Captain’s word, VIP 5 was empty. 

It seemed to be under renovation. Bare walls. With the minister prostrating on the bare floor. 

“Pyeha, I beg your forgiveness. I am horrified at what has occurred. At what my son did. My entire family deserves to die.” 

The minister was a spry seventy-four year old that Ho-pil had admired. But the man had aged since Ho-pil had last seen him. He felt almost sorry that the son’s sins were being visited on the father. Almost. Because the father had sins himself, didn’t he? 

The king, standing tall with the minister at his feet, spoke in his quiet way. No fury this time, but it still made Ho-pil swear he’d never do anything to warrant the king speaking to him in that tone. 

“I am not going to make accusations, Minister. But your son has been endangering people for more than two decades. He has even killed two girls. He was acquitted. With his priors, the acquittal seems impossible until one looks at the family he belongs to. 

“What do you hope to obtain?” 

“Our lives. We deserve to die but please let my family live, Pyeha. I will accept all other punishments I deserve.” 

The king replied without pause. “So be it. You are henceforth stripped of your title and ministership. You and your wife are banished from Corea. Your son will be tried and imprisoned the maximum sentence. As I’m the sovereign justice, and this time the case is right before my eyes and I hope I’m no longer an inadequate teenaged monarch, I can assure you your son will die in incarceration. Is that to your satisfaction?” 

The minister lowered his head further on the floor. “Pyeha-- my parents-- they’re the ones who coddled the boy. I humbly suggest the punishment extend to them.” 

“Very well. I trust your word. They will join you in exile. None of you are allowed to set foot in the kingdom. Not even to die here.” 

“Thank you for your mercy. Thank you for sparing my children and grandchildren, Pyeha.” 

If the father impressed Ho-pil, the son disgusted him. 

The king didn’t even bother to speak to the gibbering man. What a fucking cockroach, begging for forgiveness without acknowledging his actions. The king entered his room, looked at him, and just seemed to tune him out when he began talking. 

And when Ho-pil told the king that the cockroach had thrashed the server who had confiscated his car keys, Ho-pil saw the king’s hand clench at his side. 

Ho-pil was sure that if the Four Tiger Sword had been at the king’s hip in its scabbard, he would have slit the man’s throat. 

But aside from that small movement anyone untrained would have missed, the king didn’t even flinch as they left the room. 

“Add that to his charges. And place the server in protective custody. I think Captain Jo already made contact with the family of the girls and they’re under our protection as well. Cut off all communication channels of the Kim family until and after the four senior Kims are exiled.” 

“Ye, Pyeha.” His investigation had told him as much. The old Kim patriarch had a long reach without having to step outside his villa. It was just unlucky for the old man he was now standing toe to toe with the king. 

“Sub-captain Seok, please inform Secretary Mo that if there are other cases like this that have escaped my notice, I want them all at my desk by Friday next.” 

Ho-pil stood tall and took immense pride in saying, “Ye, Pyeha.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------

The guards at the door of VIP 7 were instead standing near VIP 6. Gon heard the din of raised voices as he stepped past them. The guards had stepped away so they wouldn’t hear. What on earth--

As he stopped at the door, he heard Tae-eul’s voice clearly, and it stunned him because for a moment, he thought she was talking to him. 

“And do you think the republic has force fields that prevent a car crash? I could have a car accident there, too.” 

Then Yeong spoke. “What if you had died? What if the baby--”

“Don’t think that. I didn’t die. I didn’t lose--” 

“Are you going to look at death every day? I thought it was over.” 

“Why do you always make me talk in cliches? We do look at death every day. Anything can happen to anyone at any time.” 

“Don’t tell me you don’t see it. You were used today to finally catch that man. You saw his records. Once he slammed into YOUR car, there was no hope for him. His entire family’s power gone just like that because he happened to crash into the queen this time. That was unnecessary. That was senseless. The king would have caught on to him sooner or later. But look what happened. And because you and I both know you’ve been put here on purpose, aren’t you a little suspicious? Aren’t you even a little afraid?” 

“Of course I’m afraid. I’m terrified. But there are things you fight and stay for even when you’re afraid. You know that.” 

Gon had felt his stomach drop at Yeong’s words, and then Tae-eul’s just knocked the wind out of him. Yeong didn’t answer, so Gon opened the door. He found them on opposite ends of the room, Tae-eul in bed and Yeong standing at the window. 

Both of them looked impassive, although Tae-eul’s visible cheek was flushed. 

“Did I interrupt something?”

Yeong said, “No.” Tae-eul just sighed. 

Gon knew that no matter how tenacious she was, what Yeong said had bothered her. Of course, it would. 

To his surprise, Yeong spoke up. 

"I'm worried about you. Both of you. If something happens to either of you, I'm the one who'll be left with the pieces. I’m meant to protect you. Why else do I remember everything? But how can I protect you from something like this? I’m powerless and useless.” 

Gon took a deep breath and spoke of the realization that had come to him between his call to Lady Noh and his audience with the ex-minister. “Something or someone else will prove powerful and useful then, Yeong-ah.” 

Yeong scowled at him. 

“It’s a balance. How do you think I felt this morning? I was king but what good was that when Tae-eul was in a car crash? But that car proved powerful and useful. Jangmi’s defensive driving ended up powerless and useless but that car protected them, didn’t it?” 

Yeong turned his head to the side, his gesture of thinking over what Gon said. 

“I was thinking like you earlier. It crossed my mind that maybe I could ask her to stay in the republic. But like she told you, that didn’t make sense. And when I found out about that man’s family, everything made sense. You said I could have caught on to him sooner or later-- but can you think of any other circumstance where he would have been trapped so cleanly without escape?” 

Yeong scowled and sighed. Tae-eul said, “I think that’s the longest he explained something without a math reference, don’t you?” 

Yeong sighed again, but this one sounded amused, and the look he gave Tae-eul was full of exasperation. Something Gon was familiar with because it had been directed at him for dec--

Gon snapped his head to Tae-eul. “You heard me?” 

Tae-eul grinned and tapped her right ear. “Loud and clear. Ever since Yeong came in and woke me up.”

“I didn’t wake you up. You were already awake.”

“What about your left ear?” 

“Still fuzzy. I think because it got the brunt from all the airbags and the… the crash.”

“It will come back. I’m glad you can hear again.” 

“Me, too. Give me your phone.” 

Gon smiled, moving eagerly toward her, and Yeong did the same, toward the door. “I’ll see myself out. I don’t like being in the room when you two start smiling like that.” 

Gon clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry too much. Live for today.” 

Yeong just gave him a side-eye. “Tell yourself that, too.” 

Gon nodded. “I do. Everyday.” 

\------------------------------------------------------------

Tae-eul watched the two best friends exchange words--too soft for her to hear-- before Yeong made it out the door. When she was out of here, she was going to send Yeong and Seung-ah to Jeju or Pyeongchang so he could decompress. 

Maybe they could all go as a treat to the entire guard while Jangmi and In-yeong were recovering. 

Gon gave her his phone, kissed her, and then retreated to the en suite. She heard him at the sink, brushing his teeth, the clink of the water glass against the counter, and then the gentle thump and soft buzz of his luggage as he opened zips and probably got his pajamas. 

There was the faint noise of the shower door sliding on its track, once, twice, and then the muffled cascade of the shower running. 

She listened to every little noise. She thought she even heard the soft hum of his electric razor. Even the soft slap of his hands as he applied aftershave. It made her smile. 

And then she heard the shift of the sound of his footsteps from tile to carpet, and when she opened her eyes, he was watching her from the side of the bed. 

“I thought you’d have it in full volume but I came out to absolute quiet.” 

Tae-eul snorted. “You don’t know absolute quiet. And I was waiting for you.”

He smiled and helped her move on the semi-double bed to make space for him. It might be a VIP room but the bed still couldn’t be too big to hinder patient treatment. She made sure the space was big enough for Gon to lie on his back rather than on his side all night. 

He laid down on his side, however, with his arm over her waist and under her sling, kissing her temple and her cheek. 

She squeezed his arm with her left and then she tapped play on their favorite audio file. 

Tae-eul closed her eyes and listened to it. Then she remembered Gon dancing to this and giggled. She turned the volume loud and then softer, and the little bean’s heartbeat remained steady and strong. 

This was what she’d wanted to hear all day, what she’d known she would hear soon when she’d heard the soft click of the door after Yeong had entered and it latched closed. 

So when Yeong had seen she was awake and started talking about his fears, she had been calm and peaceful, with her faith a solid presence in her mind and heart, all because she had known she was about to hear this heartbeat again. 

She felt Gon’s thumb swipe at her cheek. “Do you hear any difference?” 

She didn’t open her eyes but she tilted her head a little. Gon’s voice was another thing. “Hmm?”

“This is from today.” 

“What?”

“This is the little bean at fifteen weeks, not at twelve weeks.”

Tae-eul smiled and laughed a little. “Really? I don’t hear any difference, do you?”

“No. It’s like nothing happened.” 

Tae-eul chuckled. “Like nothing happened.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Question/reader reactions to A dark day for Corea: WHY DID I DO THIS?! WHYYY! 
> 
> Answer: You know that sweet pregnancy trope where they listen to the baby's heartbeat? I wanted it in a flashback in a currently bleak scene. 
> 
> And this is what came to me. I did my research and I kept finding things to support what I wanted to do, like the new Mercedes Benz S-class 2021 (to be released in September), the loss of hearing from airbags, and so many other bits. I loved it. I also dropped Corea News ahead so I'd be committed to seeing this through. 
> 
> I almost paid for subscription to a medical procedures journal, but I did find specific answers. The key is to ask specific questions lol. 
> 
> If I got anything wrong, forgive me. I could have asked medical people around me, but I’m shy and writing is solitary. 
> 
> FACT: Rhesus negative blood is RARE in Asia. There was a sad news item in Korea where a man died because he needed platelets and couldn’t find enough donors. He had B-negative blood. 
> 
> All right, let me know what you think. Please kudos and review. Thank you!


	15. The Biscuits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They went to New Zealand, making new life-long friends, and unknowingly starting the next part of their forever. 
> 
> This directly connects to: 
> 
> Corea News 8: Royal Scandal: Proof of the king and queen of Corea’s utter besottedness with each other  
> Corea News 9: A Royal Twin! Meet the Most Honorable Lady Seo-gyeong
> 
> Rating: NC-17
> 
> With love and thanks to @keepfallenstars and Patty for cookie supplies and (a)moral support. :)

The morning they met Luna and Shin-jae-- well, Koo Seo-gyeong and Kang Hyeon-min--was a beautiful and still winter day. 

It was August in Corea. They’d left it in high summer with scorching humidity. But here, they could see their breaths. Tae-eul thought it was too much of a flipside theme that her double lived in a country that wintered when it was Tae-eul’s summer. But she tried not to think about that. 

There was already plenty to think of.

They took the scenic route from Christchurch to Wellington, three private compartments discreetly arranged on the train, and then a chartered boat to cross the Cook Strait. 

The rugged coastlines of North and South Islands were blanketed in snow. The primitive beauty of those slopes and mountains took Tae-eul’s breath away. 

They watched the landscape from the deck on the stern of the boat, with Gon standing behind her, his arms around her waist. He had opened his coat so that she rested against his chest with one less layer between them. 

His right hand-- the one with the glove off because he had shaken hands with the captain and accepted the silver tin of Anzac biscuits the captain’s little granddaughter had made for them-- was inside her coat, stroking her left side, firm enough to feel through her cashmere and silk layers. 

When his hand started to go higher and lower, she grabbed it and held it against her waist. She felt his torso shake with laughter, and he bent his head to hers and buried his cold nose behind her ear. 

He laughed harder when she jumped away from him. She turned in his arms and pushed both hands against his chest. “Let’s go inside before that nose falls off.” 

He mimicked her, placing both hands on her shoulder, his right hand nestling in her fur collar. 

“Are you alright? How do you feel?”

She nodded, leaning her cheek against his hand. “A little scared but I’m trying not to look too far ahead or make things up that haven't happened yet. We’re just meeting two people who would most certainly be our friends, that’s all.” 

He nodded back, accepting what she said, and knowing the truth she hadn’t said. 

\-----------------------------------------

They’d received an invitation to dine at Government House tomorrow evening, but for the most part, they were truly incognito. They hadn’t opened the house the Royal Court owned here. They were at a hotel. They drove and walked the streets of Wellington just like everyone else. 

The Royal Guard were in civilian clothes scattered around them. Gon could see Jangmi stepping aside, fiddling with his phone, and putting it against his ear as a ruse for another 360 degree check around them. 

Aside from that, it was easy to believe he and Tae-eul weren’t with escorts at all, just an ordinary couple strolling through the capital. It reminded him of all those times he explored the republic on his own. He glanced at Tae-eul and the slight smile on her face told him she was enjoying it, too. 

Tae-eul was still smiling when she saw them in the restaurant. Her smile faltered the tiniest bit and Gon turned his head to find the cause. Koo Seo-gyeong and Kang Hyeon-min were sitting at a window booth of the restaurant where he and Tae-eul were headed to meet them. 

They seemed to sense Tae-eul spotting them, because by the time Gon looked, the two were rising to their feet and bowing their heads slightly-- and then they seemed to remember the agreement that they were all meeting as civilians and they raised their heads. Seo-gyeong raised a hand and waved. 

He could swear he had seen Tae-eul do that exact same awkward wave. 

Tae-eul’s hand squeezed his. Then she pulled him toward the restaurant. 

They exchanged polite greetings. He seated Tae-eul first, and she flapped her hands at the other two to sit down, but they waited until Gon had taken his seat. They all smiled at each other, even Kang Hyeon-min. For once, the man didn’t look like he would rather be anywhere else. 

Then Gon saw the angle of their overlapping arms and guessed Seo-gyeong was holding Hyeon-min’s hand under the table. That would do it. 

Koo Seo-gyeong wore her hair like Tae-eul’s, loose and unstyled. Perhaps because it was winter, so women left their hair down for added warmth, didn’t they? But that hair had the same waves. She wore a long-sleeved simple black sweater dress, and her coat draped over the back of her seat was of a camel color that brought back more memories for Gon. 

She was looking at Tae-eul with fascination. 

“I don’t want to assume we’re twins, Mama,” Seo-gyeong said. “I certainly don’t want to think you were alone at any point like I was. But we do look so much alike. It’s uncanny.” 

Tae-eul nodded, exchanging a look with him and extending her smile for Seo-gyeong to him. They had decided they didn’t want their relationship with Seo-gyeong to stand on more deception than absolutely necessary, so here they were. “I’m quite sure my mom gave birth to me. But this is really unbelievable, yes.” 

Seo-gyeong was still looking at them with fascination. “What’s unbelievable is this. I appreciate you coming all the way here. And really, you didn’t need to. I mean, you could easily command me to change my appearance, you know, Pyeha, Mama, and I would have understood. I’m a loyal subject and servant of the crown, and I want you safe.” 

Gon shook his head even while his brain wanted him to nod, because yes, of course, Seo-gyeong, raised in a family instead of growing up alone and having to fend for herself, would be just like Tae-eul in her sense of duty. 

“We’ll do no such thing,” he said. “We appreciate that you understand the delicacy of the situation. You could still refuse, of course.” 

Gon left it at that, giving Seo-gyeong a real opening. He looked at Tae-eul, and she was already looking at him, giving him quiet approval. 

The other couple had also exchanged looks. Seo-gyeong said, “Well, I’ve been convinced that this is all for my benefit. I’m gaining another sister and the protection of the Royal Court. It’s no loss for me to pretend to be your twin, Mama.” 

“Maybe you could call me by my name? It’s not just pretend,” Tae-eul said. Gon added, “Not pretend. We do have the lab work to back it up. And you gain a brother, too.” 

Seo-gyeong made a half-grimace, half-smile Gon also recognized. “Let me wrap my head around that, Pyeha--oppa. Omo. That’s so weird, isn’t it?” 

They all laughed, except Kang Hyeon-min, who said in a flat tone, “You haven’t even called me that and this is when you say it. To the king. You’re embarrassing.” 

Judging from how Seo-gyeong jerked slightly and then the way Kang Hyeon-min’s face also jerked in momentary pain, Seo-gyeong must have kicked him under the table.

“Mama-- um, Tae-eul, can you tell me more about yourself? Let’s start with your job. You must know everything about me. I’m at a disadvantage.”

Tae-eul said, “Oh no, no, we didn’t look you up like that. We only have your public record. That’s how we knew you had the same face as mine, of course. And I remember-- well-- Gon told me he remembers your name from the recommendations he signed. I worked in violent crimes in my organization, too, like you. And you know it can get dreadfully dull sometimes until you’re trying to solve a murder.”

Seo-gyeong said, “Right? You either help other teams with their cases until you have yours.” 

Tae-eul nodded. “And when you do, they’re so much work.” 

Seo-gyeong nodded emphatically. “Stakeouts. Chases. Not sleeping to hunt for evidence. Waiting for stuff all the time from forensics and other labs. I don’t miss it.” 

Tae-eul was doing the half-grin, half-grimace Seo-gyeong had done earlier. “And don’t get me started on the paperwork. I came across the traitor’s men completely by coincidence in one of my cases and here we are. That’s it, really.”

Gon’s eyes went from one woman to the other, and he noticed Kang Hyeon-min doing the same, his expression unreadable. Gon had read about the likeness of twins’ minds-- not linked, but alike-- and while this was a completely different case because Tae-eul and Seo-gyeong weren’t twins but parallels of each other, they were certainly alike in many ways. 

He could tell them apart, of course. Even in this timeline, Tae-eul’s eyes were still more forthright, more dauntless. But if the two women had more differences aside from Seo-gyeong being less reserved than Tae-eul, it would probably show up if they spent more time together, certainly not right now while they were only talking about their very similar jobs. 

Seo-gyeong leaned back in her seat, smiling. “Seemed like destiny since it meant you met your husband now.” 

Tae-eul met his eyes, all traces of trepidation gone now. Only amusement remained. Destiny was their best friend. They grinned at each other. 

Then he saw her catch Hyeon-min’s eyes and Tae-eul’s grin didn’t quite falter like earlier, but Gon saw the way it turned into a wistful smile. She was truly happy for this Kang Hyeon-min, but she was also understandably sad about him. “I’m thankful for your part in this, Kang sunbaenim.” 

“It’s nothing, Mama,” he said, gruff but still respectful. 

The food they’d ordered arrived then and they ate, touching on light topics, life in New Zealand, Seo-gyeong’s mother sending packages of Corean things every two weeks, the work in Interpol, Tae-eul studying English and Seo-gyeong giving her tips and promising to send audiobooks she loved, and then just as they were all dunking Anzac biscuits into their teas and coffees, Prime Minister Koo arrived. 

She had removed her thick black coat. She wore a black leather jacket, a white pullover, and light gray jeans. And on her feet were modestly-heeled boots. As far from the image of Corea’s prime minister usually was. 

And like Gon had done earlier, Koo Seo-ryeong moved her eyes between Tae-eul and Seo-gyeong. Then she sighed, sat down, ordered coffee, and said, “What are you doing here?” 

To Kang Hyeon-min. 

“Their Majesties are here for my sister. You didn’t need to tag along. My sister’s got enough spine to sit here and have tea with her new family. You’re just cluttering up this table.”

Kang Hyeon-min slurped his coffee loud enough to be heard at the next table and then deliberately looked out the window without answering. 

Gon felt Tae-eul rather urgently squeeze his arm several times. So he spoke and redirected Koo Seo-ryeong’s attention to him. “Right. Prime Minister, our people have taken care of the lab results. The Royal Public Affairs Office has also prepared the announcement. Your office will likely be asked for a statement.”

“Ye, Pyeha, my statement is also ready. What do the lab results say?” 

“Some copy variations, but probability of full siblingship at 98%.” 

Seo-ryeong looked at Tae-eul. “And you’re really sure your mother gave birth to you, Mama?”

“Yes, there were photos and even a video.” 

“Just you?”

“Koo Seo-ryeong!” Seo-gyeong said, horrified. 

“Yes, just me,” Tae-eul answered, unflappable. 

Seo-ryeong turned to Seo-gyeong. “You’re still a foundling and not a lost girl then. Never mind. Now you’re practically royal.” 

“I am not. Will you stop?” 

Seo-ryeong smiled and sipped her tea. Apparently, she only liked poking Seo-gyeong a little, not with real malice. 

But Kang Hyeon-min made a noise and malice returned to the table. Gon felt Tae-eul squeeze his arm again. Seo-ryeong put her teacup down. 

“What are you snorting about?”

“Just thinking how ironic this is. You’ve always wanted to be queen but you’re not. And now your sister’s even beaten you without trying. She’s now related to the crown.” 

Seo-gyeong elbowed him. “I didn’t beat her in anything of the sort, are you crazy? Unnie, ani!” 

Too late. Seo-ryeong had already thrown the Anzac at Kang Hyeon-min’s head. And she grabbed another and threw it, too. 

\--------------------------------------------------------

Tae-eul leaned against Gon in the car, half-asleep, half immersed in memories. 

Every single time she took the bigger half of the popsicle and the few times he forced her to take the smaller one. 

The day he’d told her and her dad the story of his family’s bankruptcy. His father’s arrest. His mother’s gambling addiction. 

Every single time he had bitten her head off when he was waiting for the results of the police exam. 

The days he left and came back from military service. 

Every single time he was on her side. In their squad. Against lowlifes. During fights. Or against her dad even, when it mattered and he wasn’t sucking up. 

The day he’d told her he loved her and couldn’t let her go, but did so anyway, giving her what she’d asked for, and paving the way for her to keep her memories, didn’t he, because she had been inside the gates when Gon had altered their time. 

She couldn’t bear to think what would have happened if she had been outside when the ripple happened. 

It was all thanks to Kang Shin-jae, who was in fact Kang Hyeong-min. He was a big part of why she was happy right now, with Gon’s arm around her. 

And he had bowed his head in goodbye to her as if he wasn’t. Because he didn’t know. He wasn’t the friend she’d known since she was sixteen. To him, she was the queen, and now the sister of the woman he loved.

She was the sole keeper of those memories now, of that life she’d shared with him. 

Seeing Kang Shin-jae in the republic was different. That Kang Shin-jae wasn’t her Kang Shin-jae at all. He had been asleep all this time. 

It was Kang Hyeon-min who had been her hyeong-nim in the republic. Kang Hyeon-min who had tearfully wondered if he was where he was supposed to be, who had asked her if he still had her welcome. 

Well, he was where he was supposed to be right now. And he was happy. She took a deep breath and blinked away tears. 

Gon held her hand and didn’t say anything until they were inside their suite at the hotel. And then he looked at her inquiringly as they finished shedding their winter outerwear, leaving them in their lighter coats. 

“I’m fine. I’m good. You? Did it scare you when Seo-ryeong threw that biscuit? And with deadeye accuracy, too. That should teach you not to infuriate her, you know.”

He looked at her, amused, and… something else. He suddenly lifted her up and placed her on the escritoire. It creaked under her and she clung to him and half-pushed, half-pulled him as a lever to try to get off the antique desk, but he blocked her way. 

His gaze locked with hers and she knew she wasn’t fooling him for a second. His eyes said he understood. “Did you see the look on her face when Kang Hyeon-min started saying those things?” 

Tae-eul laughed. She loved this man. He always knew what she needed. She stroked his arm affectionately. “I thought she was going to throw her tea at him, not the biscuit. Like an angry chaebol mother.” 

They laughed together. And then his eyes were going half-lidded, focused on her grin. He kissed her, a soft and gentle press that she returned. He parted from her for a second, still smiling, and then he kissed her again. This time in earnest, the kiss she’d wanted all along. 

Because Seo-gyeong, Kang Hyeon-min and Seo-ryeong were on their side. 

Because fate seemed to be. 

And because this man continued to prove himself worthy of defying fate. In a hundred small ways that made her love him more. 

So she smiled and kissed him back, her arm sliding around his neck, his sliding under her jacket, both of them pulling each other closer. 

\-------------------------------------------------------

When he came out of his office after getting waylaid by phone calls, Tae-Eul was already dressed for their dinner with the governor-general, already buttoned into her camel coat. 

She stood by the window, and she had opened it to the crisp winter air. Gon looked at her for a long moment, taking in all the beautiful lines and curves she had from her loose hair to her heels.

Today, they had pretty much just slept in. Yesterday was a day of revelations and it had shaken them more than they’d admit. So they’d slept in, had a quiet day in their suite, and now she was ready for dinner with one of the many world leaders she was bound to meet as queen. 

His footfalls made no sound on the thick carpet, so she startled a little when he put his arms around her waist from behind. Then she leaned back against him and sighed, letting her arms rest over his, their fingers interlacing. 

“Are you all right?” 

She nodded. “I feel like I miss her already. I wish we could spend more time together, but there’s also this fear that we shouldn’t do that. That she belongs here in New Zealand and I belong in the kingdom. Does that make sense?”

He nodded in turn. 

She spoke again. “She’s different, but not really. She’s still the same Luna I met. She fetched Lee Lim for me, you know. She took care of my dad. I’m so glad she’s not sick this time.” 

Gon saw her swipe at her cheek. So he said, “He’s still exactly the same though. He still looks constipated when he looks at me. And I haven’t done anything to him.”

That made her laugh. 

“Your Majesties, the car’s ready.” 

Just in time. She turned in his arms to walk to the door but he kept his arms around her, held her close for another second, inhaling her sweet scent, and then kissed her on the forehead. She smiled at him, kissed him on the lips, and then gently pushed him off, straightening her coat. 

They walked hand in hand, and he glanced at that froth of black lace at her throat that peeked out of her camel coat. She was lovely, she was amazing, and he could feel his chest just bursting with pride for her. 

He wanted to show her off to the world, but that could come later. 

The dinner at Government House would be private. It was just the four of them, Dame Patsy Reddy and her husband Sir David Gascoigne. Gon had left her a message to thank her for the invitation and to request this intimate dinner because it would be among the queen’s first. Dame Patsy had returned the call and confirmed that yes, it would be just the four of them, and they wouldn’t even have press at all. 

It was simply a warm welcome to the visiting royalty from the queen of New Zealand’s representative. 

Gon was glad for Tae-eul’s sake when they arrived without the din of reporters. Dame Patsy and Sir David were waiting at the door to welcome them, and Tae-eul warmly greeted them, offering her hand. 

Then she turned to him and he loved that shy and brilliant smile she gave him as she waited for him to translate the rest of the greetings. 

“You two are so sweet,” Dame Patsy said. “I’m so glad to meet you in that newlywed look.” 

This was simple enough for Tae-eul to understand, and she predictably smiled her shy, closed-mouthed smile with that cute nose scrunch. It made her look about nineteen. 

Cute was still in his head and he was still smiling over how adorable she was so it completely gobsmacked him when she was helped out of her coat and he saw her dress.

It was a softly glittering cloud of black lace. 

Judging by the expressions of admiration and delight from their hosts, he wasn’t the only one who noticed how beautiful it was. How beautiful she was. 

“My dear, how absolutely ravishing, your frock. Look, your husband is speechless.” 

Gon heard that but it was another second before it registered. Then he shook himself inwardly and smiled at the GG, offering her his arm, while Sir David escorted Tae-eul. 

“You didn’t tell her what I said, Your Majesty?” Dame Patsy asked, giggling now. “Did you hear me at all?”

“Of course I did, Your Excellency.” He turned to Tae-eul. “Dame Patsy said--”

He was about to embellish what the GG had said, just to make her blush, to make her cute again so he could function at this dinner. But his words died in his throat when Tae-eul said in nearly perfect English, “I heard what she said. I was waiting for you to speak. Good for you. You’re too smooth sometimes, is that the word?” Turning to Dame Patsy who was already chuckling, Tae-eul added, “Thank you so much.” 

The evening was just a haze to Gon. He took care of Tae-eul, of course, translating when needed, answering her questions, but he had no idea how well he did. 

He was used to women wearing the most beautiful dresses. But this was Tae-eul, and he wondered if he’d ever get used to her stunning him with her beauty. The dress was modest, the neckline at the base of her throat, the sleeves to her wrists, the hemline at her knees, but all that lace-- and how well she spoke in a language she’d just begun learning-- short-circuited his brain. 

He thought about unsolved math problems throughout the dinner. And if their hosts noticed he was distracted, they were only amused. At least he’d entertained them for the evening, hadn’t he. 

Sir David was going to show him something or other in his study, but Dame Patsy vetoed that. “We shouldn’t keep you. Thank you so much for your generosity in spending the evening with two old people, Your Majesties.” 

They said goodbyes, Tae-eul inviting them to Corea for the festivals. He couldn’t remember which. He took her coat from the butler and helped her into it himself. 

She caught his eyes over her shoulder and blushed then. Oh now, she’d blush? 

He wondered if Yeong had seen the dress during the security scans and that was why Yeong had ordered the Royce Phantom as their car for this evening. 

Ahh, Yeong. 

He bundled Tae-eul into her seat and then took a deep breath of the frigid winter evening. The ride to the hotel was around ten minutes. That was nothing. Only ten minutes. 

He got in the car. Tae-eul was looking at him strangely. “What were you doing standing outside for a minute?”

He focused his eyes on her forehead, on the delicate wings of her eyebrows. He just smiled at her as he put on his seatbelt. Then he looked out his window. 

He felt her reach for his hand, resting their arms on the car’s infuriatingly huge center console. He took a deep breath. And regretted it because he got a lungful of her fragrance. 

He looked at his watch. Only three minutes had passed. 

He turned to Tae-eul. She was looking out her window, both hands in her lap. Belatedly, he realized he had disentangled his hand from hers when he looked at his watch. 

Gazing at that profile, the city lights swathing the lines and curves of her face in gold and shadow, he saw the queen she would become, had already become: poised, fierce, and brave, always brave. For him, for them, for this life they’d chosen. 

“Tae-eulah.” 

She turned to him. And she was so beautiful in that moment, in her simple questioning glance, that he wondered what idiot had possessed him to make him think he’d last ten minutes without touching her. 

He pushed the button to turn the car’s electrochromatic privacy glass opaque. 

\---------------------------------------------------

Tae-eul looked from Gon to the glass and back. 

“Why did you do that? Now Yeong and Jangmi will think we’re doing unspeakable things here.”

Gon laughed. “We can speak it. They can’t hear us. Come here.” 

“No.” 

“What do you mean, no?”

“We’re in the car!”

“I want to kiss you.”

She inhaled sharply. She was still trying to catch her breath from those words, said in that voice, when his hands were there, pulling at her seatbelt for more give, and then pulling her close, and then his lips were on hers.

He thoroughly caressed her lips with his for several breathless moments. He nibbled on her bottom lip next, teasing it with his tongue, and then went back to that drugging lips on lips friction that sent her nerves on fire, before nipping her lower lip again and drawing it into his mouth, suckling gently, tasting and stroking it with his tongue. 

When he finally, finally touched his tongue to hers, she heard herself groan, and she couldn’t help the soft moan that followed when he gently delved and twirled his tongue with hers. His hand was on her ribcage, his thumb caressing the curve of her breast, the other hand cupping her cheek with his fingers in her hair. 

Her arm was trapped between them on the console, so she only had one hand free, but she couldn’t do much but cling to his wrist as he moved his mouth to her cheek, then her neck and the shell of her ear, where he paused to kiss and nip, making her shudder as sparks rushed from that spot on her ear and straight to her core. 

“Neo-neun wan-byuk-hae. Saranghae.” 

She sighed. She was just about to reach for him with both hands so she could kiss him again when the car stopped. 

Gon kissed her briskly, reached a hand to her waist to release her seatbelt, removed his, and then he was out his door and opening hers. She felt the strands of hair he’d loosened from her chignon flutter back and forth against her neck as he led them from the car to the hotel lobby and then across it to their semi-private lift. 

The liftman bowed and pushed the button to their suite. Tae-eul hid her heated face against Gon’s arm. She poked his side when she felt him laugh. 

In contrast to the dignified but still slightly mad rush through the lobby, they walked slowly to their door, saying good night to In-yeong and Ho-Pil standing in the hall. 

Once they were inside, she kicked off her heels and removed her coat. Then she fished for a biscuit from the tin on the console. Gon stood there watching her, unmoving. 

As if she couldn’t feel her blood heating her neck and cheeks almost unbearably hot, she bit into the cookie and said, “What?”

He said in English, “You are absolutely ravishing.”

She looked like she was going to imitate her earlier bravado, but it lasted only two seconds. She looked down and said, “Oh stop it. You don’t think this was too much? Chung-cha said queens only wore two fabrics in the evenings, lace or silk. Or both.”

He removed his coat, put his arm around her, and led her to the sofa, planting his lips on her temple and not letting go even as they dropped onto the cushions, hip to hip. He took the biscuit from her and finished it in one mouthful. 

“You can wear whatever you want. Since when can you tease in English?”

She laughed. “I had Seung-ah’s help. We just thought up scenarios and she helped me with the words I wanted to say.” 

He dropped his head on the sofa’s back. “You’ll be the death of me one day.”

“Good. Because you always, always make me feel like I’m dying.” 

Maybe it was because of his kiss. Maybe because she was still tingling from that kiss. Maybe it was the way he exposed his delicious jawline and neck to her just then. She didn’t care. She hitched the skirt of her dress high on her thighs so she could do what she wanted to do, which was straddle her husband. 

It was comical how fast he put his head back upright when he felt her settle on his knees. His arms went around her back, supporting her, always protective that way. She smiled and threaded her fingers through his soft hair. 

She ghosted her lips over his nose, his cheek, his ear, doing what he’d done in the car and nipping him there. She felt him shiver and she loved it, almost as much as the feel of his hands traveling up her back, leaving a trail of delicious heat through her layers of silk and lace. 

She felt her dress loosen when he found the hidden zip and pulled it down. 

She leaned forward and relished the heavenly feel of settling against the solid warmth of his chest, and then--she didn’t know who closed the remaining distance-- they were kissing each other, tongue tips touching and teasing. He growled as he sucked her tongue into his mouth and she shuddered as that sucking and that growl set off sensation everywhere. 

If she thought a previous kiss was good, he always, always made it better. 

She had straddled his lap to initiate things, but now she was happy to be kissed senseless, just clinging to him as he kissed her like it was their first time, parting from her lips and then going back in at a slightly different angle, again and again, until she’d had enough of it and she placed both hands against his neck so she could kiss him properly. 

He tasted-- they both tasted--like the butter and coconut in the Anzac biscuits they kept eating here. It was delicious. But then it was always delicious between them. He smiled against her lips, letting her take control. 

And then he was moving his hands, gently but insistently pulling her dress over her shoulder and down her arms. It got stuck at her elbows, and they laughed a bit while she showed him the hidden zippers at her wrists. 

They both stood so she could shimmy out of her dress and he got rid of his suit jacket and trousers. And then she pushed him back down on the sofa and followed him there, her knees back on either side of him. She was in her silk slip, and he hitched it higher up her hips and pulled her closer against him. 

Her breath caught when her core connected with his arousal, only his and her underwear between them. He gave a soft thrust and she returned it, settling and rubbing against him and giving a soft, drawn out sigh of pleasure. 

Her fingers shook as she unknotted his bowtie and discarded it behind the sofa. 

“Ahh, Tae-eulah.” He growled this against her neck as he grabbed her hips and rocked her against him. She gasped and nearly tore one of his shirt buttons off. She finished them and he shrugged off his shirt and then pulled her slip over her head in one smooth movement. 

One would think they’d been apart for weeks instead of a few hours, the way they both relished being skin to skin. She shivered at the sensation of his chest against hers and smiled at how he looked at her with dark eyes, his lips kiss-swollen, and his chest rising and falling, breathing hard. 

And then he was bowing his head to sip at her lips, and then making her writhe and moan with open-mouthed, nibbling kisses on her neck. He pushed her back a little in his arms and she clung to his neck and gasped as he leaned forward and took first one nipple in his mouth and then the other, suckling tenderly for long, long moments. 

Electric pleasure was both shooting down to her core and ricocheting outward from there because he was also gently rocking against her. 

His arms were the only thing keeping her anchored, serving as her back rest with her leaning back on his lap, and this was a tiny, nebulous thought that nonetheless added to the thrill and pleasure running through her. 

She pulled him up for a kiss and he pulled her back upright against him. She said something incoherent, her fingers pushing down his boxers and gently pulling him out. He groaned against her mouth. 

“Gon--” 

She didn’t know what she wanted-- she was a little desperate at that point. But he understood. He reached between them and used his thumb to push her panties aside. And yes, yes, that was it, and she almost sobbed with relief when he pushed inside her. 

He buried himself to the hilt and she crumpled against him, only staying upright because her arms were around his shoulders. She gasped when he lifted her up--the drag and heat of it making her boneless-- and slammed her back down. 

Somehow, some way, her knees functioned again and she whimpered against Gon’s neck when she used her knees to lever herself up and discovered an angle that hit a particularly delicious spot every time she came down. 

Gon was cradling her with arms loose around her waist, letting her move as she pleased, whispering and groaning praise against her ear. Until he reached a point where he stopped praising. 

“Go faster now, Tae-eul.” 

She leaned back, “Oh?” She rolled her hips and they both groaned. 

“If you won’t do it, I will.”

She laughed at the slightly disheveled and unhinged look in his face. 

In the middle of that laugh, he rammed her hips up into hers, making her gasp. And just like that, her knees almost turned to water again because she was close. 

Gon kept at it and she clung to his neck and met his thrusts. 

“Gon, harder.” 

At her whispered command, he growled and reversed their positions, gently but efficiently placing her on her back and ramming into her, one of his arms sliding away from her waist to brace his elbow on one side of her head. The other held her close as he continued with his relentless pace, and she could only hang on, her legs cradling his hips, ankles locking behind him. 

He kept their eyes locked as he made love to her, except when he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers, and when she closed her eyes when the pleasure became blinding and unbearable and she cried out softly as her orgasm rolled through her. 

It was intense. Waves upon waves of white hot pleasure, her neck straining and the top of her head pressing onto the sofa, her mouth open in a soundless scream. 

“God, Tae-eul,” Gon groaned against her, and he was thrusting erratically with his own climax. She hugged him and cradled his head with her hands, whispering, “Saranghae,” as they stayed joined even as they both finished. 

She sighed and kissed his hair. He turned his head and kissed her cheek, and then they were both laughing softly, fondly. 

“What was that you said?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Something about making you feel like dying?”

“Shut up.” 

\-----------------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for everyone who are still reading and still can’t move on from TKEM. Drop me a line. :) And thank you so much for your reviews! I am going to sit down and reply to everyone! I got some really, really awesome ones. Thank you so much! 
> 
> You can look up Elie Saab cocktail dresses for the inspiration for Tae-eul’s dress. 
> 
> You can also look up the Rolls-Royce Phantom to see what the car is like. What, I like cars, and they serve fictional purposes. 
> 
> The continuation of the Corean Awards Night coming up next. 


	16. The Bouquet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding her again was dream-like, unreal. Memories had kept them connected while they were apart, and one disappeared memory would also assure them of their destination and destiny. 
> 
> Episode 16: Reunited, continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Precedes:   
> The First Friday  
> That Situation
> 
> \-----------------------------
> 
> To all beloved readers who are still here, still in love with TKEM, and not yet moving on (and for the new arrivals, welcome to the madness hahaha): I’m still working on the winter palace-- this is just a quickie for a friend who needs some good juju. 
> 
> TKEM love still strong. :) I love your reviews, btw, guys. Keep them coming. I love how in love we are with this show and its people. Some of you are so awesome in your reviews. I love it.

* * *

If this was a trick, he wouldn’t even be furious. He’d be happy enough about this vision for however many days and nights he’d have to keep riding and keep opening doors to find her. 

But the vision that was Tae-eul kept looking at him with eyes that knew him, and spoke words that knew of his promises. And when she kissed him, it was her, really her, he had really found her, and he sighed into that kiss and drank the sweet, sweet reality that he had found her and she knew him. 

Loved him. 

She accepted his flowers, and returned his embrace. 

He held her tight, just in case it still turned out to be a trick, an illusion, a mirage his brain thought he should see to push him even harder to find her, or to madness, whichever came first. 

Every pass of her hand on his back made his heart beat faster and quieted it at the same time. 

When they parted from their embrace, she said, “Hang on.” She kissed him on the cheek and then ran to her car. She turned off the police beacon and locked the doors. 

She looked back at him and seemed to just drink him in, the same way she’d done when he’d come for her after the skirmish at sea with Japan. He could remember the way she looked then, because she looked the same way now, her eyes shining. 

He loved those eyes. 

“Why are you still standing there?” 

He walked toward her and she didn’t disappear. It was still her, and she still looked like she knew him. 

When he was standing in front of her, she drew a deep, shuddering breath and said to his lapels. “You’re really here.” 

“Yes. So are you,” he said with wonder. He tilted her chin up and wiped the tear that slid down her cheek and neck. 

She shuddered again and clutched his hand to her cheek. 

A few seconds passed of them just looking at each other and she seemed to shake herself. “Have you eaten?” She smiled. “Do you want banban?”

He nodded, not really sure of his appetite but at this point he’d go anywhere with her. 

She opened the car doors and had just placed her bouquet on the dash when she paused, turned around, and looked him up and down. 

She laughed ruefully. “I can’t bring you anywhere in that.”

She pulled him upstairs to her house.

That was how he, the King of Corea, went out in public with his shins showing. He hadn’t done that before. He’d worn shorts during rowing, but never without compression leggings beneath. Now he wore Jeong Do-in’s shorts because none of the man’s training pants fit him. 

Tae-eul was still laughing at how they’d stopped comically several inches above his ankles. He also borrowed the man’s old training shoes. It was a little tight, but bearable enough. 

They ate quietly, too busy looking at each other. It would have been ridiculous except he had a lump in his throat and Tae-eul looked like she also did. The banban was delicious but he barely noticed. At some point, he couldn’t bear it any longer and simply placed his hand palm up on the table toward her, and Tae-eul smiled, placing her hand on top of his without hesitation. 

He remembered the bottles of moisturizer on her desk, and he loved that he held the result in his hand again. Her hand was so soft, and so small in his. 

Their legs brushed under the table. He curled his ankle around hers, a subtle movement of the back of his foot dovetailing with the back of hers. She smiled at him as she made her somaek with one hand. She passed him a glass. 

“Bottoms up for the king.”

She bit her lips as she said it, and then just let go of her grin. He returned it, chuckling at the memory of her so combative, back when she thought he was spinning tales instead of just telling her the truth so she could send him home.

“I thought going somewhere with bright lights would make us both believe this is real,” she said. 

He nodded. “And the smell of fried chicken to add another layer of reality?” 

She squeezed his hand, smiling. “The last I was here, it was with Jo Yeong.”

“Nado.”

“Really?” She laughed. 

“You mean you haven’t eaten fried chicken since?”

She looked at their hands. “I was busy. You know, I was taken on a tour. Salt farm, palace, hospital, salt farm again, beautiful church, palace. And then a care home, some apartments in the city, one that blew up, hospital again, and then just work. Busy, busy.” 

He saw every memory unfold in his mind as she summed them up in those few words. She’d told him about the care home and that apartment. He’d been with her at the hospital. He’d be with her from now on and ask her about her days at work. 

“Which was your favorite?”

“Just one?”

“How many do you have?”

“The church and the palace.”

The way she smiled at him made his chest clench, and it was his turn to squeeze her hand. “Do the seventeen rules still hold?”

“Only twelve so far. Why?”

He saw her blinking back tears, no doubt also seeing memories in her mind, specifically when she’d added the last rules. So he just shook his head and reached forward to wipe the corner of her left eye. “Let’s get you home.” 

They walked side by side to her car, his arm around her shoulders, hers around his waist. She gave him the key without a word. As he drove, she held his riding crop and her bouquet in her lap, her body turned sideways to face him, her feet under her hips, her cheek on the headrest. 

And her hand on his shoulder, the back of her fingers resting on the side of his neck. 

“Your scar is gone.”

He nodded. 

“I saw Lee Ji-hun. He’s--” She stopped talking. It reminded him of that time in the empty fields when she had also cut herself off. Her face in that golden hour was something his mind loved replaying on the back of his eyelids. 

“Handsome? Charismatic?”

She pursed her lips in amusement and then said quietly, “Alive. A Navy officer of the republic.” Her fingers now caressed the back of his neck, playing with his hair there. “You saved his life. Probably his mother’s too.”

He looked at her just as they passed a streetlight, and the pride and love in her eyes stole his breath away. 

That soft gaze, hearing her tell him what he’d done-- it made him glad he had done it. 

It was more gratifying than the satisfaction of knowing he had fulfilled his duty, had done something that was only right. Yes, he couldn’t have done anything else and lived with himself but here was something beyond his own self-fulfillment. He liked making her proud of him. 

He’d never really had this before. But there she was. 

“Saranghae.”

She looked at him with a little puzzlement, but she replied, “Nado.”

Her father was away on a convention of martial arts practitioners, or something just so convenient--he wouldn’t be back for a week. And Tae-eul was suddenly shy, not meeting his eyes as she led him to her bedroom. 

She hung the flowers upside down on a hook on the wall, picked things up off her bed, desk and chair, and told him to get comfortable while she took a shower.

It was a quick shower. She reentered her bedroom, closed her door, and directed her eyes to the bouquet on the wall, before her gaze slowly lowered to him sitting at her desk. 

He saw her shoulders fall in a long exhale. 

He was in front of her in a few strides. 

And then they reached for each other at the same time, with a gentle urgency that made them gasp and groan as they kissed and touched and satisfied that urgency, that thirst, that longing. 

They couldn’t get close enough. Her pajamas were soft just like her but they were a nuisance just then. She whimpered when his skin touched hers, and she stood in his embrace just holding him for several long moments, her cheek against his chest, her hands pressing and stroking his back. 

“I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too. So badly. I was going mad.” 

He kissed her hair, touched his lips to the silky skin of her forehead, her soft nose, and then her lips, lightly but hungrily tugging her lower lip with his teeth. 

She moaned low in her throat and that made him move to kiss her there, dragging his lips to her chin, her jaw, and the velvet of her neck, where he tasted and teased with teeth and tongue. He had dreamed of this almost every hour of every day he searched for her, and he felt his eyes sting that he was finally here with her so soft and warm in his arms. 

He kissed his way from her neck to her ear. “I love you and I want you and I’m going to have you or I really will go mad, Tae-eul.” 

He felt her knees give and he supported her around the waist, relishing the feel of her against him, the silkiness of her skin, and the shiver going through her. 

She looked at him and he could see the love and tenderness in her eyes, and wry amusement. “You’re already mad. Just take off those shorts and take off my pants.” 

They both laughed as her arms went around his shoulders and he hoisted her up, her thighs around his waist. 

They didn’t take their eyes off each other, and when sensation drew their eyelids closed, their lips were fused, their hands were intertwined, and they were connected, body and soul, as trite as that sounded in his head. He loved this woman, and he swore there would be days and nights when making love to her would be as normal and natural as breathing and wouldn’t be some symphony-laden poetry in his head, but not tonight. 

Not tonight when she had tears in her eyes and looked at him like he might still disappear, when she clung to his shoulders and cried out and it sounded like she was in pain as much as pleasure. 

“Tae-eul. I’m not leaving you again.”

“No. Not allowed.” 

She smiled as he wiped her tears, and she kissed him as he hardened again inside her. 

He lost count how many times they made love without really stopping much-- three or four, five, it didn’t matter. When the imperative hunger subsided, he was exhausted, like he had rowed four kilometers instead of two. And bagged the race, because his exhaustion was happy. He was happy. 

He kissed Tae-eul on her temple, on her cheek, on the shell of her ear, and pulled her tighter against him. 

He thought she’d fallen asleep, so it startled him a little when she spoke. 

“That suit you were wearing. I’d seen it before.”

Gon frowned. “I did wonder about that. You were so odd about it in my dressing room.”

She nodded against him. Her hand slid from her chest to his neck. “You don’t remember coming to me wearing that?” 

He began to shake his head, but then images unfolded in his mind, of what he had done before he found Lady Noh praying with a bowl of water among the onggi. 

Sneaking out to the stables, stepping out of the obelisks into a night in February that he desperately wanted to change because his uncle deserved a peaceful death, but the Four Tiger Sword was not in his hand, and he had to remind himself it wasn’t this night he should change, wasn’t his uncle he had to save, so he had stepped back from February, back to April, found Myosotis sylvatica almost as if his parents had rewarded him for his resolve, and stepped into the republic, and there she was in his line of sight from the street, Tae-eul tending her plants on the window sill. 

He tightened his arms around her. He had really thought that had been his last chance to see her, to tell her he loved her. “I gave you the very same bouquet?”

She nodded. 

“It’s my mother’s favorite flower. My father said it stands for remembrance and undying love in spite of separation or obstacles.” 

“It disappeared.”

“It probably disappeared when I decided what I decided.”

“Hmm. You decided that at the hospital. It didn’t disappear until later. It was terrifying.”

He stroked her arm. “I think it disappeared because something changed, and the Lee Gon who gave it to you was no longer the Lee Gon in the shifting timelines. I’d made a decision that changed things, or someone else had, or was about to.”

He felt sure it was Yeong, deciding to come with him and not let him sacrifice anything that shouldn’t be. Or perhaps it was even him and the seemingly insignificant decision to say goodbye to the woman who had raised him and kept his secrets instead of just disappearing as he’d planned. Perhaps that had been enough to give Yeong time to intercept him. Perhaps it was all the above and more. Tae-eul hadn’t even told him yet about what she’d gone through on her side of the gate. 

“Maybe it disappeared because things were coming together for tonight instead.”

“What? That’s making my head spin.”

“That’s my job.”

She snorted softly, her fingers stroking the hair at the base of his neck. 

“I think you recognized me then, didn’t you?”

“You looked so miserable. I thought something bad happened and I couldn’t help you, and I thought-- I thought you were leaving me for good in the future. I thought you were marrying someone else and that you were going back to her. Have you seen that ridiculous suit?”

He looked at her incredulously. Who across the universes would he marry but her? And did she mean she wanted him to marry her? 

She was blushing, no doubt embarrassed at what she’d just revealed, so he said, “Aren’t you going to put them in water?”

“No. They’d just die. Hang them up and they can last forever. Don’t you know that, Mr Science Guy?”

“Mr Science Guy always has fresh flowers at the palace.”

Her hand had stilled in its caresses, and he realized she was falling asleep. He pulled the blanket higher on her shoulder. She kissed him and snuggled closer, the slope of her face fitting perfectly against the curve of his neck and her breaths evened out as she slept. 

With his hand stroking Tae-eul’s arm, he carefully turned his head to look up at the bouquet of flowers on the wall. He could see another bouquet in his mind, and he could even taste Tae-eul’s tears on his lips. He also felt a phantom, searing pain in his chest that made his eyes burn, and he had to blink and turn his head to fill his mind of the sight of Tae-eul right there beside him, looking so angelic and beautiful and perfect in her sleep. 

When he’d finally punished Lee Lim, that memory, that event, and everything else that happened before he had undone his scar, were undone. 

And yet, he had done it again. Brought her the same bouquet. Spoke the same words. And he had a sudden, brilliant understanding that this was his destiny. She was his. Had always been and would always be his. 

From age eight to a hundred and eight, perhaps, if fate was kind. Fate had given them to each other, had always led him to her, so it probably would be. 

He pressed his lips to Tae-eul’s hair and closed his eyes. He had never fallen asleep faster. 


	17. The Scarf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Calm and the Fury  
> Episodes 11 to 12 in Gon's POV  
> As requested by @pateetsie and my Swoon Anon on Tumblr.  
> Details of the request will be revealed when the entire shebang is posted. 
> 
> Part 1: The Scarf  
> He laid Tae-eul’s scarf on his bed. His eyes were drawn to the sword, the scarf and back.   
> Two things that represented his fate.  
> Making things right.  
> Tae-eul. 
> 
> The same calm he’d felt when he was in Tae-eul’s arms came back to him. He knew what he had to do, and he would do it. God was on his side. He had to be. After all, He gave him Tae-eul.

Seeing Tae-eul outside the gate in the bamboo grove was like a stunning blow. He’d been looking for Lee Lim’s obelisks, trying to keep count of his five hours, trying to make contingencies, and just trying to think instead of feel, because Lee Lim using the power of the manpasikjeok to his own ends woke something dark inside Gon. 

He and Maximus rode hard and long but he found nothing. What was he missing? 

It made his stomach clench.

He retraced his steps to his own gate, feeling the need to step into Tae-eul’s world. It was almost like all roads led to Tae-eul. Hadn’t it been like that all his life since he was eight years old? And in his current disappointment and frustration, he needed to at least hear her voice, to ask her how she was, to let her calm the rage simmering in his gut. 

He wished he could hold her. Touching her and being held in her arms was new and addicting. It was all he could do not to scoop her up in a hug every time they were with each other. But he had very little time left so he knew he couldn’t see her. 

So the sight of her standing there on the path when he and Maximus cantered past the obelisks took his breath away. 

When she started crying, her hand going to her mouth, the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach moved to his chest. He decided he couldn’t stand her crying. 

“What-- You’re finally here. Did you just get here?” 

He swung off the saddle and ran to her, and kept his eyes on her as she ran to him, her face crumpling, her gait a little unsure on the rough ground, and then she was finally in his arms. 

The knot in his chest loosened and tightened at once. 

He held her as tightly as he could without crushing her as she cried and he felt her hands trying to find a grip on his coat. He wondered if something had happened, and then with sudden clarity, he realized he had happened. 

He had come into her life and then slipped out of it back to his world, and she’d had no way to get a hold of him. He’d been completely out of her reach. 

“Have you been waiting here?” 

She had found her grip on his coat and she held on tight. “Are you really here?” 

“Not yet. Not entirely.” And he hated it. “I missed you so much. Like crazy.” He pushed her back gently so he could see her face. He looked into those eyes and felt a measure of peace come over him. His hands went to her hair, her cheeks, almost without thought, his thumb wiping her tears. “So I was going to just hear your voice and leave.”

She was all he could see now, with those clear, guileless eyes. Just as he’d predicted, she had quieted everything in his mind. Lee Lim was pushed to the periphery. She had missed him just as much, and she was worried about him. 

“My voice?”

Yes, your voice is enough, but having you here in my arms is better. “I was going to call you from that pay phone over there.” 

He showed her the change he’d carefully saved and kept hidden. In the two seconds he took in her tearful face, he remembered all their other phone calls and smiled ruefully. He was sure the next phone call would be different. 

But she was still in the grip of her tears and she clung to him again. He felt his own eyes sting. He didn’t like this one bit. He wished he hadn’t left, but he couldn’t stay. 

Tae-eul leaned on him completely, trusting him to support her, and he did, cradling her against him, breathing in the scent of her hair and skin, gently swaying and relishing the feel of her arms around his waist, her face against his chest. 

He didn’t know how long they stood there just holding each other. Her crying grew quiet, and she sighed. 

“Are you all right?”

She nodded and looked up at him. “Are you?” 

He smiled and wiped the last of her tears from her cheeks. He really missed touching that soft skin. “I’m fine.” 

He was. When she was holding him like this, he felt like they could face anything. He was king. And she was his dream come to life. And she happened to be both brave and armed. It made him smile wider. In wonder. In some lingering measure of disbelief. In love. 

“Can you come with me?” she asked, and she stepped away from him, contrasting the pleading in her voice and eyes with squaring her shoulders and her hands going to her coat pockets. He watched her fingers swing twice, thrice, before finally finding her pockets on the fourth and fifth swipe. He had to bite his lips so he wouldn’t grin. “Just for a while? It’s Wednesday.” 

Instead of saying no, he asked, “Is anything the matter? How have you been?” 

Those eyes told him she understood what he hadn’t said. She nodded at it, accepting, and he decided he had to finish things with Lee Lim for all the right reasons and this important one: he wanted to stop being the worst boyfriend. 

“Well, do you have anything to report to me? I’m still in command, you know.”

He smiled. He took her hand from her pocket and led her to one of the benches, not letting go as they sat. Her backpack was there. She used it as an armrest as she half-turned toward him, their hands in her lap. 

He took a deep breath and told her everything. About seeing Lee Lim as he had been when he was eight. “You were right. One could delay time inside the gates. I’ve been looking for a sixty-nine year old man, but once I looked for someone younger, I finally saw Lee Lim caught in CCTV footage. He looks the same as I remember him. He’s using the manpasikjeok, biding his time and ferrying his men back and forth. I still need to find him. What about you?”

“I’m going to ask Shin-jae for help with the cases. He’s still on vacation, which isn’t like him.”

“Tell him about the kingdom, about what’s been going on. Wait. He’ll come around.” 

She raised her eyebrows. “I know that. How do you know that? Never mind. I have another photo for you.” After taking it from a folder inside her bag, she gave him a photo of a young woman. 

“This is Jang Yeon-ji. She’s not dead here, but she has a 2G phone like Lee Sang-do. She killed her roommate. I think because her roommate found out or heard something from her 2G phone. Is she in your world?”

Yes, he had seen this face in the palace. He couldn’t exactly place her, but she was definitely in the palace. Tae-eul’s face pinched at seeing the recognition on his face. He squeezed her hand. 

“Don’t worry. Lady Noh knows every face in the palace. We’ll keep this one safe. She hasn’t been taken yet.”

“She’s not that female guard, right? I remember her vaguely. Do you trust all your guards?”

“No, that’s not her.” 

“You answered that so quickly. I suppose you would know your guards’ faces.” 

He placed the photograph in his coat’s inside pocket and barely reined in his smile at Tae-eul’s random bouts of jealousy. Imagine her being jealous of In-yeong. “Well, yes, I know my guards. I trust them. Don’t worry. They won’t be easily taken. They have rooms in Gwangyeongjeon and all their meals and drinks are--” 

“Fine. What about Lee Sang-do? Have you found him?” 

“Now under house arrest. I’ve cut him off from all contact. He seems harmless enough but he was placed in a quite clever position taking care of Maximus.” Tae-eul’s eyes went to Maximus not without alarm. “She’s fine. And access to her is now restricted to less than five people.”

Her lips were trembling when she said, “Lee Lim is placing these people close around you.”

He shrugged, half to comfort Tae-eul, and half in genuine lack of surprise at Lee Lim infiltrating the palace again with his minions. “It’s a predictable move. Lee Sang-do might have slipped through in the stables, but nothing gets past Lady Noh in the palace. She’s still on the warpath about your stolen ID. Be careful about that.” 

“I’m nobody. You’re the one who should be careful. Keep Eun-sup close. How is he anyway?”

“I had to remind him to call me Pyeha.” 

Tae-eul pursed her lips. 

“And he brought kimchi from this world and bragged about it to the Prime Minister.”

Tae-eul laughed. Gon relished the sound.

Then she stopped laughing abruptly and said, “When? When did he brag about kimchi to the Prime Minister? Do you eat with her when you receive administrative reports? Did you cook your famous steak and rice this time?”

It was his turn to laugh. “It was the year-end report and the maids brought us something in my office to tide us over. She said some twaddle about not eating because she’ll gain weight. Eun-sup ate her sweet potatoes with the kimchi.” 

“Sweet potatoes?”

“Boiled sweet potatoes.” 

Tae-eul made a face. “That’s what she asked for?”

“She also asked if she can marry me.”

“What? When? Where?”

“Still in my office. Still with Eun-sup.”

Tae-eul just looked at him. 

He leaned close, trapping her against her bag and the corner of the bench. “I told her I’d already proposed to someone else, of course.” 

He tightened his hold on her hand as she tried to squirm away. A small smile tugged at his lips-- she looked adorable and beautiful with her breath fanning across his face and her perfect skin so close to his lips and her eyes glistening, at once soft with love for him and still sharp with conviction and tenacity.

He didn’t fight the pull that drew him to press his lips against her cheek, and then her lips. Both of them sighed into that kiss, their lips moving together in sync. He tugged her lower lip into his mouth and her arm went around his waist under his coat, the warmth of her hand searing his back through his shirt and sweater. 

The moment he let go of her hand, she also put that arm around him. He pulled her closer, parted from her a hair’s breadth just enough for both of them to feel and dislike the sudden distance, and then kissed her again, cradling her head in the crook of his arm, his hand covering her neck and ear against the wind that kicked up. 

He barely felt the frigid breeze, because she’d opened her mouth and touched her tongue to his. 

That made him shiver and pull her even closer. 

She was sweeter and more heavenly than he’d ever imagined. 

He couldn’t get enough of her taste and softness, and the complete surrender she gave him, her head resting on his arm, made him want to worship her even longer, more thoroughly, and kept him gentle at the same time. 

He completely lost count how long they kissed, deeply and tenderly. He didn’t want to stop, only wanted to stay here with his tongue dancing with hers forever. 

It was her turn to nip at his lower lip, then she pressed soft kisses to his lips thrice, and then hid her face against his neck as he did the same, inhaling the warmth of her skin. They were both breathing hard and she trembled a little in his arms. The wind still hadn’t let up. It blew her hair against his face. 

“Will you be my queen?”

The wind snatched his whisper as soon as it came out, but she still heard it. Without pulling away her arms around his waist, she leaned back. 

She smiled softly. “Not today. Let’s just get through the Lunar New Year. I have a night shift.” 

Right. The Lunar New Year. He should get back to that. “I have a speech.”

“Let’s protect your throat then.” She let go of him and pulled her scarf from her bag, folded it in half and expertly locked it around his neck like she’d done it countless times before. 

He touched the soft wool and leaned in and kissed her again. 

She kissed him back, her hands clutching at his clothes again, one on his coat, the other one on his sweater. 

He could still feel the press of her fingers against his waist as he rode back to the palace. It kept him calm. 

The moment he took off the scarf and hid it tucked in his pants pocket under his coat, his disquiet returned. He needed to find Lee Lim fast. Needed to outplay him. But there was so much at stake even in the mere action of drawing him out. 

His father’s voice reading the command of the Four Tiger Sword dogged his footsteps as he confirmed the date with Lady Noh and went back to his suite to wash up and get some sleep. 

He laid Tae-eul’s scarf on his bed. His eyes were drawn to the sword, the scarf and back. 

Two things that represented his fate. 

Making things right. 

Tae-eul. 

The same calm he’d felt when he was in Tae-eul’s arms came back to him. He knew what he had to do, and he would do it. God was on his side. He had to be. After all, He gave him Tae-eul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Still busy with work and I've bought and added DIY furniture to my pile too so I'm so bad at replies, but your reviews feed me and keep me writing. So keep them coming! Welcome to new readers, btw, who drop me notes here, on Tumblr or Twitter! Thank you so much!


	18. The Fifteenth Rule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tae-eul's first gruelling experience of being queen, her first jewelry as queen, and her first bad swing as a wife. She didn't like the last bit. So she made a rule about it. 
> 
> For greeneyedchick's request: Tae-eul as bridezilla. "Cute fight." 
> 
> Connects to:  
> \- Pieces of Paper (the engagement and the fourteenth rule)  
> \- The Thirteenth Rule  
> \- The Clock  
> \- Corea News: Royal Wedding  
> \- Corea News: Queens Day posts  
> \- The Queen's Dresser

In October during the Chewy app fever of voting for Kim Go-eun for the Asia Artist Awards, I asked people to make me their Recommender in the app in exchange for a fanfic prompt. 

greeneyedchick’s request: “Bridezilla Tae-eul. Cute fight.” 

This is a fricken challenge. As I’ve said in previous Tumblr posts and analyses/answers to anons, these two are just impossible if you want to make them fight. They’re too considerate of each other. They’re honest and open with each other. They’re both even-tempered in a complementary way: when one of them erupts, the other stays calm. 

See The Clock. 

The root cause of couples fighting? The thoughtlessness, the sneakiness, the selfishness, the laziness? They don’t have those. 

So finally, here’s the cute fight you requested, Kat, with Tae-eul as close to bridezilla as we can believe. :) Happy birthday! A very belated happy birthday, dammit. 

I did outline and start this fic waaaay before Dec 17. I’m so sorry. T.T 

* * *

“Are you amenable to a second wife at all?”

Tae-eul just looked at Gon. She was driving, and he was sitting there testing her patience. He held on to his serious face another second before he grinned and laughed. 

Drat him and his grins anyway. 

The temperature that day hit thirty-one degrees Celsius, and it felt hotter. Dark clouds overhead. They were on their way to the bamboo grove, and nothing moved outside, stuck in traffic and trapped in this muggy stillness. 

Her air conditioning was in full blast but she could feel sweat in places she couldn’t wipe just then, and it infuriated her that Gon looked cool as a cucumber. 

“I’m serious, though. It’s going to be in the contract.”

“It is not.” 

Gon nodded gamely, and then plucked her shirt right where it was stuck to her skin under her inconsiderable bust. Then he stroked her hairline, two swipes of his thumb that immediately made her want to lean into him. “Consider it redacted, jungjeon.” 

“Don’t call me that.”

“Do you prefer wangbi?”

Tae-eul didn’t answer, but she said in her mind it was because Gon massaged her neck, his large hand effectively wrapping around her nape and his palm and fingers applying just the right amount of pressure without needing to move much. 

Gon fell asleep during the rest of the drive. Tae-eul wondered if any of his tiredness came from the wedding preparations. She hoped not. Especially since she’d stayed out of it for the most part. 

Today was the day she was officially signing off on some things. The palace staff were going to be formally introduced to her, making their bow and seeing her face, swearing fealty to their new queen. Apparently, it was a tradition started by some former queen. 

Since reuniting with Gon and sneaking in and out of the kingdom, she’d only been seen by Lady Noh, Yeong, Seung-ah, In-yeong, Secretary Mo (because of Woo-jin) and the Royal Guard. And probably some members of the guard who caught sight of her from the control tower monitors. 

She was an open secret, and now the whole palace was about to meet the person behind emptied halls and disabled CCTVs. 

* * *

Gon probably felt that the car engine was no longer rumbling beneath him. He blinked his eyes open and looked around not long after she parked at the grove. 

“What’s wrong?” He reached for her hand. 

Tae-eul pretended she hadn’t been sitting there with her mind going a mile a minute. “Which queen started this again?” 

He squeezed her hand and stroked her thumb. “Queen Jang Geum. She was very affectionate to Queen Tae-ra. Tae-ra was something like her niece or something. Don’t worry, we’re so far from those days of inbreeding. Anyway, Jang Geum wanted the palace to recognize Tae-ra beyond her royal robes and jewelry. By the time Tae-ra became queen, there were three queens in the palace. Tae-ra, Jang Geum and Se-ri.

“Technically, only palace staff actually saw the royal family, if at all, what with keeping their heads bowed if someone royal passed by. Usually only the higher court ladies and eunuchs knew the faces. That’s why royals got away with going incognito when they wore regular clothes.”

“I don’t know if Jang Geum did good, then,” Tae-eul said dryly. 

Gon chuckled. “She did good. I want everyone in the palace to recognize you. You won’t be able to sneak out. Not without me.”

“We’ll see about that.” 

Gon groaned. “Forget I said that. Anyway, they were three generations of queens and they didn’t have the usual power struggle when too many queens are alive. Those three did create so many traditions. Tae-ra started Queen’s Day to honor the other two.”

Tae-eul closed her eyes and shook her head. “Let me get through today before you tell me about any other days.”

“What’s worrying you? Are you all right?”

She nodded. 

Straightening in his seat, Gon removed his seatbelt and leaned toward her. Tae-eul let herself see nothing but those eyes, and feel nothing but his hand sliding to cradle her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek. 

“You don’t have to do any of this, Tae-eulie,” he said softly. “You’re the queen. The only queen. You’re not required to do anything but marry me. I require that, and you said yes, no backing out.” They both snorted in amusement. “You can start your own traditions.” 

“I’m fine, Gon. I’ll do it.” She smiled at him and they got out of the car. He was still looking hesitant when he rounded the car to her side so she continued, “I don’t mind. I’m not being forced into this. There will probably be a lot of things I won’t be crazy about but I’ll do them. I won’t run away.” 

She hadn’t even realized she was tying her hair as she said that until he pulled her to him by the arm before she was done with the second loop. 

“Hey--”

He kissed her until they were both breathing hard and her knees were a little unsteady. “Saranghae.” 

* * *

They went to the palace by their usual hidden route. Lady Noh was already waiting for them in Gon’s suite. 

“No,” Gon said. “I thought we had time to take a nap. It’s only past ten a.m. Do you know we drove through Seoul morning rush hour for this nap?”

Lady Noh bowed her head and said, “Pyeha, Mama, I only wanted to ask where you want to do the keunjeolewangbi?” 

Tae-eul looked at Gon. He just shrugged, grinning. “I suppose she decided she’s gonna call you Mama from now on. There’s no going back. Just accept it.” He turned to Lady Noh. “Where do you usually do it?”

“Wanghu Mama your mother received everyone in the king’s office. Wanghu Mama your grandmother in the throne room. Wangbi Mama can do it wherever and however you like.” 

Tae-eul dropped down on the sofa. Sank against it and had the momentary wish that she’d just keep sinking in. “I’ll do it in the office, thank you, Lady Noh.”

Lady Noh bowed and left them. 

Gon sat down beside her, toed off his shoes, and reached for hers. “I’m surprised. The throne room is bigger. You can do bigger batches.” 

Tae-eul’s mouth dropped open. “You tell me that _now_?” 

He pulled off her socks. “You probably had your reason for picking the office.” 

“Yeah. I can sit behind your desk. I want something between me and everyone so I won’t feel too exposed. I think I can’t even shake my leg if I wanted to in the throne room.”

“See? Smart.” He reached for her shirt buttons next. 

“Speaking of exposed, why are you undressing me?”

He grinned. It was really unfair how that grin turned her to mush. “For our nap.”

They did nap. But she soon woke up from a very short post-orgasm sleep on Gon’s chest, and she couldn’t get her brain to quiet back down. 

Attuned to even her slightest movement, Gon’s arms tightened around her and he pulled her up so she could fit and nestle more snugly against him, her face against his neck. She hugged him back and placed her leg over his waist, willing the world to stay out of her head for a few more minutes. 

She was exhausted. She had resigned but she still had work to finish, slowly chipping away at her mountain of paperwork. Arrangements to make sure her dad would be fine while she was away, too. It had surprised her to learn her dad had investments, squirrelling away his savings and her mother’s life insurance money to several places. They weren’t bad. She and Na-ri were just organizing them all for his income and retirement, because he didn’t seem to care and just wanted to leave it all to Tae-eul when he died. 

She was tired. Sleep eluded her, though, even when she tried to wear herself out at the dojang. 

Skin to skin with Gon, she could feel herself getting drowsy, but still couldn’t let go enough to actually fall asleep. 

“Tae-eulie, what’s on your mind?” 

“Nothing. You go to sleep.” 

She stroked Gon’s arm and shoulder and played with his hair until his breathing deepened. Her finger also traced his face, forehead to nose to chin. She loved this man so much. It still made her chest clench that she’d almost lost him, that she did lose him. But they were together now. She was here with him and she was going to stay. 

She kissed him gently and got up. 

The shower was good at first, and then she had to escape the thoughts that attacked her in there. So she quickly finished up and distracted herself by getting dressed in her mother’s hanbok. 

Tae-eul no longer remembered exactly when her father gave it to her, but the hanbok had been in a cedar box in Tae-eul’s wardrobe for as long as she could remember. She also remembered taking it out only once when she was a kid--maybe she was eleven or twelve?-- shaking it out and wondering when she’d ever wear it. 

She had never worn it for festivals or any other occasion. It was too... dressy, the silk too delicate and luxurious, the underskirt too fine in their pastel stripes, the chima too puffy. Even Na-ri had been impressed. Nari had said it was fit to wear in front of royalty, modern royalty, not Joseon royalty, who’d be mad as hornets if you were trying to show them up in something as fine as that. 

Tae-eul could have laughed now, but she had a lump in her throat. 

She couldn’t find a photograph of her mother wearing it either. Her father had said it was really hers, Tae-eul’s. Her mother had it made for her when she was four. 

The jeogori was a soft dark grey, silvery when the light hit the silk. The chima was a dusky pink color Tae-eul loved, and she rarely liked pink. Six inches of the hem was a band of silver floral pattern, matching the collar and cuffs of the jeogori.

The florals were not unlike the plum blossom of the Corean royal seal.

When Lady Noh had seen it, she had said the royal wardrobe couldn’t have dressed Tae-eul better, although they would have added a dangui, of course. But going without one was fine for now, and she wouldn’t want to cover that beautiful jeogori either. 

Tae-eul put it all on without trouble, as if it wasn’t the first time she wore a hanbok. It wasn’t that much different from a dobok, except it wasn’t heavy cotton, of course, and it wasn’t trousers, and it had so many layers, top and bottom. 

That made her chuckle. And then one look at the mirror and she felt like crying because she didn’t know what to do with her hair. 

She padded out of the dressing room and back to the living room, watching her chima billow in front of her as she sat on the sofa. 

As if she had an ESP about this--which she probably did-- Lady Noh entered the room just then, the door admitting her without a sound. 

“I was just going to wake you up, Mama,” she said, smiling at Tae-eul’s hanbok. “Do you want lunch now? You should eat before the ceremony.” 

“Thank you, Lady Noh.” That sounded squeaky. Tae-eul cleared her throat. 

  
“Are you all right?” 

“Can you-- can you do my hair?” 

“Of course. I will have the best court lady come up shortly, Mama.” 

And Lady Noh was out of there before Tae-eul could protest. She’d wanted-- she didn’t know what she wanted. But she didn’t want some court lady she didn’t know.

And what was wrong with her eyes and throat? Both stung. And her nose tingled. 

Lady Noh came with a bevy of maids. Without a single sound, they laid down covered dishes for Tae-eul and Gon and left, except for two court maids who went to her and bowed at the waist. 

Tae-eul was becoming unnerved by all the silence. Lady Noh said softly, “These two will get your hair done, Mama. Or do you want to eat first? Or are you waiting for the king?” 

Tae-eul closed her eyes, took a deep breath and opened them. “Um, right. Thank you. I’ll wait for the king. Where do we do my hair?”

“We can do it here if you like, Mama. Where do you want to sit?”

Tae-eul felt a nerve tick behind her left eye. She walked back to the dressing room where she could sit on a proper chair that wouldn’t get in the way of her hair. The maids followed. 

* * *

“You look beautiful.”

Gon was in his Navy uniform, the medals clinking softly and reflecting tiny prisms of light from the windows. Tae-eul had seen him in it a grand total of two times before today, and her synapses weren’t firing as they should. She had to consciously fight not to shake her head. 

Sometimes she did wonder if she’d do all this if he wasn’t so sinfully handsome. But he was. He really, really was. So there she was. 

And she wasn’t shallow, this man was wonderful, but yeah, it didn’t help that she knew the touch and strength of those hands, those broad shoulders. Knew the taste and feel of that sharp jaw beneath her lips. 

She drank water and scowled at her dishes. 

They were seated at the table with their lunch, Lady Noh retreating with the attending maids at one look from Gon. 

“Why aren’t you eating?” 

If she told him her mouth was dry and she couldn’t swallow, and not because she was lusting over her fiance, he’d call the whole thing off, and she just wanted to get it over with. 

“I had a big snack while you were sleeping. I’m not hungry anymore. And if I eat more, I might puke.” There. Convincing enough, wasn’t it? 

Gon just chuckled. “All right then, if you’re sure.” 

Then he rose from his seat, only to sink down on one knee beside her. 

“What are you doing?” She wasn’t stupid. She had a pretty good idea. But asking was instinct. So was grabbing his arm as it rested on her lap. 

  
“I know you already said yes, but please humor me.” Then he was placing a rectangular wooden box on her knee. Simple at first glance, but etched with gold. She could feel its weight even through her chima and underskirts. 

“Will you be my wife, my queen, the mother of Corea and my children?”

She looked at him and decided to focus on the first one. His wife. She could say yes to that with her heart just beating out of her chest, rather than all her organs imploding when she thought too hard about the rest. 

But the rest was all part and parcel of being his wife and she accepted them all, was quite happy and excited about that last bit, actually. So she nodded. She wanted to say, “Of course,” but words were almost too clumsy, too noisy. They didn’t need noise. 

Her fingers slid and wrapped around his wrist. The touch anchored her to the present. And his answering smile quieted her burgeoning panic. 

“Saranghae.” He opened the box. “These are yours. I had them all made for you. Pick one to wear today.” 

Inside were three garakji. 

The first pair was white jade, overlaid with slender horizontal bands of gold, with the gold plum blossom of the royal house formed by the rings in the center. 

The second pair was half white and half black jade, and side by side formed a thick band of black in the middle. Each ring had a teardrop-shaped stone at the black edge, tiny but glittering with so much fire, and the two stones fit together, their silver borders forming the eternity symbol. 

And finally, the third pair, softly gleaming very dark grey bands with tiny flecks of gold inlaid. It was beautiful in a quiet way. 

She touched the rings at the same time Gon did. “I knew you’d like these. I was right. I had them made when I saw your mother’s hanbok.” Gon placed both rings on her ring finger. “You also have to have the traditional jade, gold and silver. Do you like them? Are the diamonds too much?”

“No, they’re beautiful.” 

“Really?” Gon exaggeratedly blinked up at her. “Are you sure you’re all right?” 

She tried to pull her hand away. He laughed and held on. “Now these bands are made of crushed black diamonds. See how light they are? And they’re practically indestructible. You can punch and shoot guns and these won’t be scratched at all, if you had a mind to wear them daily. And I had them use the pink diamond from my grandmother’s personal vault again. We only took a little.” 

As if she was going to wear her rings when she worked out! But they did feel like they weren’t there at all. With Gon still holding her hand, Tae-eul bent instead to get a closer look at the rings. “Wait. What pink diamond?”

Gon twisted the rings on her finger and Tae-eul drew breath. 

With the rings aligned, the stones formed the same pink plum blossom on her necklace, softly sparkling in the same dusky pink as her hanbok. Against the dark grey--almost black-- bands, the stones were brilliant and subtle at the same time.

She found her eyes stinging, so she turned the rings back so only she and Gon knew the secret of the stones--the same pink plum blossom that kept her faith that he was coming back for her-- and then she bent her head again, this time to him. 

She cradled his face between her hands and did what she’d wanted to do the moment he entered the room in that uniform. 

She kissed him. 

* * *

Lady Noh asked her if she wanted the staff to line the halls on the way to the office. 

Also asked her if she wanted them to come by rank or by department. 

“Do you want us to assemble in the office, or do you want to be seated in the office first?”

“Can you all fit in the office?”

Lady Noh seemed taken aback by the question, and then seemed to seriously consider the logistics of getting that done somehow. 

“I’m sorry, Lady Noh. I want to be there first. And no one lining the halls. And I’ll leave it to you to group them. Is that all right?”

Lady Noh smiled and bowed. 

Gon also smiled and bowed. Tae-eul looked at him petulantly. 

He looked her up and down, and she saw his eyes pausing on her binyeo and then on her garakji. And then his gaze dragging to her lips. “Do me a favor and don’t look so adorable until we can be certain we won’t be disturbed.” 

“Shut up.” 

He just laughed and took her hand in his. Together, they walked to his office. 

True to her word, Lady Noh had kept the halls empty. 

Tae-eul tried to calm herself, but she couldn’t shake off the weight in her chest. 

She held on tight to Gon as they approached his desk. Behind it, she could see the throne. 

She didn’t let go of Gon’s hand until she was seated behind his desk and she could no longer see the throne, but it still seemed to push at the exposed skin of her nape, like an invisible hand, then she realized it was Gon’s hand, just resting there and pressing a little with his fingers to ease her tension. 

She laughed nervously. Lady Noh, Secretary Mo, Yeong and Jangmi all looked at her. She waved her hand to say it was nothing. 

“Mama, may I present Jang Mi-reuk,” Yeong said. “He will be your personal guard. If you like him, you can invest him as your Unbreakable Sword. He’s the strongest candidate for the position.”

“Really? I thought you were the only Unbreakable Sword. What about In-yeong?”

“The king and queen each has an Unbreakable Sword. The position is held for life, and Ms Park and her family didn’t sign the provision in the contract that she will serve for life, without entanglements like marriage and children.” 

“Yeong, that’s just a formality,” said Gon. “You can marry and have a dozen kids if you wanted. And don’t call them entanglements. What’s wrong with you? Tae-eulie, greet the man. He won’t get out of his bow until you do.”

“Oh. I’m pleased to meet you, Mr Jang.” 

Jangmi straightened to his full bearish height. “Mama, I’m very grateful. And you can call me Jangmi. Everyone does.” 

Tae-eul smiled. Gon’s hand squeezed her neck gently for the last time and let go. 

Tae-eul took a deep breath and said to Lady Noh, “Please tell everyone they don’t need to keep bowing until I say a word.” 

That was the easy part. 

She lost count of how many staff and departments there were. They all just blurred and blended together in her mind, a flurry of black uniforms, white uniforms, blue uniforms. 

Gon sat on a chair by her side and read something on his tablet, checking in with her often by looking at her, but not doing or saying anything, even when--or especially when Lady Noh or the chiefs of departments asked her questions. 

The chief arborist wanted to know if she had a favorite tree. The chief florist seemed to get electrified by this question and asked if she had any favorite flowers, and then rattled off suggestions for the wedding until Gon must have sensed Tae-eul was getting rattled and shot him a look. The florist deflated and bowed. 

The chief of wardrobe was all praise for her hanbok, and seemed genuinely impressed with it, and then the woman saw her garakji and asked if black was her favorite color, and would she like black silk for her wedding? 

The questions were neverending. The kitchen had night and day staff, and the two head chefs were both women. They were the only ones who bowed to her with a greeting instead of a question, and a hope that they could cook for her soon. 

The night head chef glanced at Gon as they said this, and Gon just grinned. 

“What can we tempt you with, Mama? Are you inclined to sweets or spices? Hot or cold?” 

All right, so she should have known they’d also have a question. 

Her ladies of the bedchamber were last, not because of rank, but because they were her most intimate maids, not counting someone who would dress her, and Tae-eul refused to think of that for now. 

Until the dresser was appointed, Lady Noh was their chief, and they all just bowed wordlessly, promising to serve her faithfully. 

And then they left, and Tae-eul sagged against her chair. 

Gon said, “That wasn’t so bad, was it? Do you want a drink?”

“Stop with the fucking questions.” 

Gon’s face was blank. Yeong and Jangmi didn’t blink. Only Secretary Mo made a sound and movement, clearing her throat and taking several steps back from the desk. 

Lady Noh reentered the office, and the way she gently and silently floated to the desk made Tae-eul want to cry. 

“Do you want to continue, Mama? You can meet the--”

“I haven’t met them all?” Tae-eul heard the whine in her tone and didn’t care. 

“That was the staff belonging to the Royal Chambers, Mama. The Royal Household also includes administrative Royal Offices. They can meet you today or tomorrow. It’s up to you, Mama.” 

Tae-eul took a deep breath. “How many offices are we talking about?”

“The King’s Office, the Queen’s Office, the Royal Public Affairs Office, the Office of the Royal Purse and Treasury, the Royal Guard.”

“That’s it? That can’t be all of it.”

“Yes, Mama, more offices are part of these offices.” 

“Let’s-- I’ll meet them.” 

Lady Noh bowed. 

Perhaps Lady Noh sensed she was tired and had a word with these people, or perhaps it was because the administrative offices were already efficient machines. They went through pretty fast. Tae-eul remembered medical, almonry and ecclesiastical offices within the Queen’s Office. That meant she’d be taking care of health, charity and church. 

Everything else was a blur. There was a Master of Heraldry within the King’s Office who told her he would design her coat of arms, and he hoped they could meet soon so they could discuss it. He would be delighted to include her family in her armorial bearings. 

Here Gon came to stand beside her, and her hand reached for his without conscious thought as the little old guy said he had ideas just from the meaning of the word, jeong. 

She was still holding his hand when the Royal Guard bowed at the waist before her, all sixty of them, in their sharp black suits, and several dozens of the Palace Royal Guard who weren’t currently on-duty at their stations around the palace and in the control tower. 

The last of the guards also seemed to be the last of them. 

Lady Noh approached the desk, and Tae-eul tensed. 

“Do you have any comments, Mama? Anything you’d like changed? Anyone you didn’t like?” 

Over in her corner, Secretary Mo stood poised and ready to make notes about whatever Tae-eul said. Yeong and Jangmi also looked at her as if her next words would define their next strategies or plans with the Royal Guard. 

Tae-eul shook her head. 

“Leave us.”

At Gon’s words, they all bowed and left. Lady Noh looked like she had one more question, but pursed her lips and retreated. Tae-eul also saw Yeong give Gon a warning look and Gon only looked back at him sardonically, as if daring him to say anything. Yeong didn’t. 

And finally, after meeting hundreds of people, they were alone. 

“Are you all right?”

“Stop asking me questions, goddammit. Tell me what to do.”

“Well, tell me what’s bothering you.”

“You’re not going to tell me never to snap or curse at you?”

“What?” Gon pulled his chair closer to hers and sat down facing her, his knee touching hers. “You can snap or curse at me any time. I think that’s your duty as my wife.”

Tae-eul didn’t know where it came from, but a sob escaped her throat, and Gon’s grin disappeared. He looked at her anxiously, taking both her hands in his. 

“I’m giving up so much for you. I was fine. I had a good job. I didn’t have to make a thousand decisions before breakfast while doing it.”

“I know that. And I appreciate the magnanimity of it. That’s why I also want you to know that you don’t have to. Tae-eul, say the word and you don’t have to do this.”

“Stop that!” Tae-eul slapped her hand on her chima. “I’m all out of decision-making today.”

Gon nodded again. 

“Everyone keeps asking me everything! I say something and they come back at me with a thousand questions to pick pick pick.” 

Gon squeezed her hands and stroked her wrists with his thumb. 

“I’m a cop. You’re a king. We’re so different. I’ll have to learn everything. All those people expect me to make decisions. And I’m sure I’m going to mess up at some point and embarrass you, and I don’t want to embarrass you.” 

Moving his chair again, Gon maneuvered her into leaning against him, his arm around her, her head on his shoulder. 

“I don’t know if I’m fit to be a wife, let alone a queen. What if I always snap at you whenever I’m frustrated?” 

“I can take it.”

She slapped his chest. “I don’t want to be a wife like that.” 

“Then you won’t be.” 

“Lady Noh and all the court ladies walk like they don’t have feet. I can’t walk like that. I stomp. I don’t walk and act like a queen.” 

“I think they were trained that way. You can stomp all you like.”

“You keep saying that! But there are rules I need to learn here!” 

“Yes, there are. But there are some things you don’t need to obsess over.”

“I’m obsessing?”

“No. Not yet. But you might if I don’t stop you.”

“As if you can stop me!”

Gon’s chest moved against her. 

“Are you laughing?”

“No.”

“Why is my mother dead? It’s unfair. I want my mother. I wonder if she could have done my hair and I’m sure she would have said something sensible. Probably already slapped me for being a bitch to you earlier.” 

Gon’s arm tightened around her, and she felt the press of his kiss on her temple. “I think she wanted to be with you and that’s why she had this hanbok made.” 

Tae-eul burst into tears and stood up. 

“And you’re so calm and you just make me feel stupid with how panicked I feel.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t lash out at me in front of my secretary and fricking big guards. Maybe you should. I can take it. When you get angry, feel free to--”

Gon seemed to be done giving her space then. He followed her to where she paced and took hold of her shoulders. “Tae-eul, I’ve never allowed myself to snap at others, even when I’m so furious or exasperated. If I haven’t snapped at some of the stupidest people you could meet, why would I ever snap at you? You’re the one I love most.” 

“That’s just making me feel worse.”

“I’m--” 

If Gon was going to apologize again, Tae-eul was so ready to snap at him again. But he was cut off. 

By her stomach. 

“That sounded angrier than you,” Gon said. 

The way he said it-- intimidated and fascinated at once-- made Tae-eul shake with sudden laughter. 

“I’ll get us food.” He was smiling, wiping her cheeks and chuckling at her giggling. “You sound like you feel better.” 

Tae-eul sighed. “Oh good, you’ve learned not to ask me questions now.” 

“I think Lady Noh and the rest of them are asking you questions to give you choices, to show you you’re in control. You’re their new queen. Did you notice no one looked at me to consult or verify anything with me after you’ve spoken? Not once. Your word is law.”

Tae-eul’s growling stomach somersaulted. “I don’t want my word to be law. Are you kidding me?” 

Gon looked like he wanted to laugh. He didn’t. “All right, don’t think of it that way. And it’s not really that way. Not until after your investiture.” 

Tae-eul groaned and slapped his arm. 

“They were just giving you control. Yes, that has so much responsibility, and I admit it’s overwhelming, but you can also see it as this: what you want goes. Maybe you can anticipate the questions and give them answers before they ask. Be intentional like that.”

“Okay, that’s good advice. I want you to give me advice like that.” 

“It doesn’t clash with the fourteenth rule?”

“No. Here’s an answer, by the way. You’re Catholic. You can’t have a second wife.”

Gon blinked. “So my religion is the reason I can’t?”

Tae-eul nodded, bringing her hands to his neck and playing with the hair on his nape. She liked it when his eyes went slightly unfocused when she did that. “What else is there?”

“So if I convert, I can have a second wife?”

Tae-eul nodded again. “Sure. If it strengthens the kingdom, why not?” 

Gon pulled her hands away from his neck. 

“Why are you so surprised? I told you. With me, the citizens come first. If a harem is for the greater good, I’m all for that.” 

Gon looked disbelieving and disgusted for another second, and then his face went smooth. “Really? Maybe I can propose to the prime minister then. While I’m in this uniform. Make the most of it.”

Tae-eul just looked at him. Gon laughed, and then pulled her against him and kissed her. The silky slide of her jeogori felt good as she wrapped her arms around him. She was so ready to forget the day and everything else in the most delicious way possible. 

Gon pulled back with a groan. “I should feed you first.”

But he didn’t pull away. He stood with his legs engulfed in the fabric of her chima and pressed his lips to her forehead, her cheeks, and her lips again, and Tae-eul basked in feeling so loved, so sheltered in his arms. Yes, he was worth it. And she was just going to have to buck up. 

“Let’s make it a rule never to snap at each other. I really felt bad about that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“Tae-eulie, I know. I didn’t think anything of that.” 

“I still felt bad. And this probably won’t be the only time we’ll fight--”

“Was this a fight?”

Tae-eul laughed despite herself. “Yeah, that was just me blubbering, wasn’t it?”

“You had good reason, and you weren’t blubbering.”

“All right, the fifteenth rule is never snapping at each other. And if we’re really fighting over something, whoever cares the most about the disagreement gets their way. Compromise.” 

Gon smiled at her and stroked her cheeks. “You’re amazing. And you worry you wouldn’t be a good queen?”

“It’s not amazing. It’s just good teamwork. And shut up about the other thing. I want to be able to eat this time.”

“And we’re already at the fifteenth rule? Does the thirteenth rule really count? We’ll always just try for babies?” Gon grinned outright this time. 

“Two words. Feed. Me.” 

* * *

* * *

  
All right, so that wasn’t much of a bridezilla, I think. But yeah, being bridezilla stems from anxieties, and Tae-eul’s got those anxieties in spades. But her situation is very unique, of course. 

Being engaged to a king means she doesn’t have the usual anxieties of brides trying to get what they want within their budgets, or having to deal with recalcitrant vendors and family/friends of the groom or bride who try to do things their way instead of your way. 

So Tae-eul’s anxieties are rooted in her worry over her new role, her new job. And this is how it turned out, during a very tiring day that also hammered the nails of everything she’s about to undertake. 

That’s taxing by itself, and on an empty stomach, no wonder Tae-eul was cranky, haha. 

I love these two so much. They communicate. And Gon’s a king. He’s trained to de-escalate and stay diplomatic. Tae-eul, too, for that matter. They’re really such a good match. 

In The Clock, Tae-eul didn’t escalate either. She was just like, “Talk to me when you’re making sense.” LOL 

You might argue that they’re passionate about each other and that would translate to passionate fights, but no, I don’t see that passion and love translating into screaming rows or even “cute” fights where they don’t talk to each other. 

And then there’s their level-headedness and being very considerate of the other, and their nicely open communication, which would all would make it impossible for either one of them to do something that would very likely lead to a screaming fight in the first place.

(Am I explaining too much, Kat? I hope you liked this!) 

I wish I had a photo of Tae-eul's hanbok. We can probably find something on Pinterest. Also her garakji: You've probably seen them in historical K-dramas. I imagine Gon had Tae-eul's made in the modern sense, instead of solid green or white jade, and plain metal bands. And of course Tae-eul won't wear delicate/heavy ceramic. I also looked at so many fricken rings for this story but none of them match what I had in mind for Tae-eul's garakji. 

Thanks to my friend Mandy, who ranted about a king giving the love of his life mall jewelry. 😂 I "fixed" that here. 

Happy holidays, guys! I hope 2021 is better. I think these fan fic are testament enough of how much I love TKEM. It saved my 2020 along with all of you who leave great comments and have become friends. Thank you so much! I hope you’re having the best time with your favorite people. 


	19. The Winter Palace 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By insistent public demand, the continuation of The Heartbeat.  
> Their days and nights in Gyeoulgungjeon. A babymoon in the Corean Alps. 
> 
> Stands alone, but best with:  
> \- Little Bean Part 3: A Gift From the Koos  
> \- Corea News: The Queen of Corea stuns in London  
> \- Corea News: A dark day for Corea  
> \- Corea News: Queen in recovery, villain in jail  
> \- Corea News: Corean Awards Night  
> \- The Biscuits  
> \- The Queen's Dresser  
> \- The Biscuits  
> \- Little Bean: Lady Noh's Tea

“You have a winter palace in Pyeongchang? Ow.” 

“Stop moving. I’ll do it.”

They stood facing each other, barefoot on the carpet of her hospital suite. Outside the windows, night had just fallen. Gon was in his robe, Tae-eul was in her silk camisole. She had already stepped into her dress, which Gon was now holding up around her waist. That was the easy part. The sleeves were tricky. 

Tae-eul had told him she had twisted her ankle before and once got her shin bruised so badly she couldn’t use it for a week, but the upper body was different. You didn’t easily injure your shoulders, collarbones and arms if you knew how to fall, how to hit, how to dodge. 

Tae-eul knew how, so this was entirely new to her. And unlike ankles and legs that didn’t hurt unless you used them, injured collar bones hurt like the devil because they were basically fighting against gravity all the time. 

He hated that Tae-eul was in this kind of pain and discomfort, but better this than-- 

He couldn’t even bear thinking of it. 

With her sling off, Tae-eul supported her left elbow with her right hand. Gon carefully slid the armhole of the sleeve over her left wrist, and then made the slow and careful business of sliding the rest of the sleeve over her arm and up towards and over her shoulder. 

“The entire county belongs to us,” he said as he did her buttons next, starting from the bottom and up. Tiny pearl buttons. About twenty. He grinned when he saw Tae-eul scowling at how many buttons there were, and he sped up. “Until my father married my mother, the royal family was Buddhist, and Queen Soheon built Pyeongchang as our retreat.” 

“So no one else lives there? It doesn’t have ski resorts? Would I need to meet the staff?” 

“No. But all the upstairs staff will see you when we arrive. It's custom for them to meet us at the doors. And yes, people live there. They have resorts and inns or they work in the palace, the temples, and all the hospitality and recreation businesses. We own two: Alpensia and Yongpyong. We host winter Olympic games there.” 

He finished with the last button at her neck and he couldn’t help sliding his finger up the column of her throat and then chucking her chin. With her face upturned to his, it was so easy to lean down and kiss her, so he did. 

They were going home. Well, to Pyeongchang. But Tae-eul was well enough to go home now and he could finally breathe. 

It was Tae-eul’s idea to send Yeong and Jangmi and In-yeong away for a short break, and it was such a good idea he had phoned Lady Noh to have Gyeoulgungjeon made ready. He hadn’t been there since 2018. He was sure the staff would love to meet their new queen. 

And the banquet hall could be put to good use for the Corean Awards. It was really a splendid idea.

The palace could rearrange everything. And if the sudden change of venue meant some people couldn’t come, who would mind? No one would care. Everyone just wished the queen a quick recovery. 

That Friday everyone was calling a dark day for Corea was behind them. He thought it was a little melodramatic, with some even mentioning Lady Diana Spencer, but it had certainly been dark, and his terror probably shaved a year off his lifespan. 

So he kissed Tae-Eul again and again, pressing his lips on hers, her cheeks, eyelids, her forehead. Lately, he seemed to need to do this as often as he could. 

She gave him a little bite on his lower lip. “Stop kissing me and finish dressing me.” 

And just like that, that bite, the tilt of her chin, and the moue of her lips as she repressed a smile added two years to his lifespan. He grinned, gave her one last kiss and returned that bite, and then went to the bed. He gestured to the four scarves her dresser had placed there for her to choose from. 

“You own Yongpyong? So there are no Moonies in the kingdom? I think the blue.”

He picked up the scarf. It wasn’t blue. It was quetzal green, the best choice for her russet cashmere dress. And among those lined up on the floor, he could see the shoes that perfectly matched the scarf. “What are moonies?”

He carefully knotted one end of the scarf around her left elbow, then gently pulled the rest of the scarf through her inner arm and around her back, up, and down her front right side, where he knotted the end of the scarf around her left wrist. 

“It’s a religious movement in the republic and they own Yongpyong,” she said. They wordlessly adjusted the height and tightness of the scarf’s support until she was comfortable. Then she let go of her elbow and smiled up at him. 

He smiled back, fussing with the knot he’d made in her scarf. “Well, we own it here. Do you ski?”

Now that her right hand was free, she slid it up his chest and rested it on his shoulder, her palm against his neck and his thumb stroking his jaw. “Yes.”

“You can’t right now, though.”

They both looked down at her bump, quite distinct now. Little bean was really coming out. 

“No, I can’t.” She gave him a rueful smile and pulled him down for a kiss. He tasted the mint of their toothpaste and the sweetness of her smiling into that kiss. She always smiled these days whenever they referred to the little bean. 

With her hand on his shoulder, and his around her waist, they walked in sync toward her shoes. She didn’t pick the pumps that matched her scarf. Instead, she moved her hand to his arm and inserted her feet and legs, one at a time, into knee-high black boots. 

He had to admit it was a good choice. It would keep her calves warm, and the flat rubber soles and heels would give support and traction. He helped pull them on properly around her legs and zipped them up himself. 

Then with a smile of thanks, she went to her dressing table. 

Gon watched her as she applied lip balm, then peered at her face in the mirror, tracing her undereyes with her ring finger. She twisted open one of the glass jars in front of her, dipped her ring finger there, and applied the cream on her face and neck. It smelled like her, fresh and tangy.

She used a brush on her eyebrows. Next, she dabbed something peachy onto her cheeks and eyelids. He watched her use a long, angled flat brush to line her eyes. She was done with that too quickly for him to see much. 

Then she put everything down and looked at him through the mirror like he was nuts for watching her instead of getting dressed himself. 

So that was why he’d never seen her do this before. She was simply done before he could even look. On those days they did get ready together, she usually got dressed before he did, and by the time he was done, she was waiting. Looking so effortlessly beautiful. Like now.

Except now he wasn’t dressed yet because he had helped her during the entire business of getting her dressed, from her shower to actually putting on her dress.

She turned around and he watched the skirt of that dress flounce a little around her knees. 

The dress he’d buttoned her into. 

It was going to be buttons and zippers for weeks and weeks. 

“Please get dressed. I want to get out of here. What are you grinning at?” 

“Nothing.” In four long steps, he was before her. He could see the faint dark line on her eyes making them look more entrancing, the muted peach on her cheeks making her look adorable. He liked that she looked so healthy. 

He gave his head an internal shake. He wasn’t going to think how he’d nearly-- Of course she was healthy. She was perfect. She was Tae-eul. 

He had thought he had learned her so well that no details could surprise him any more. He thought wrong. And he was going to spend the rest of his life cataloguing those details. Especially the next few weeks when he was going to button her into all her clothes. 

He grinned again. She looked at him suspiciously so he leaned down and kissed her. Because he needed to. And just because. “I won’t be long.” 

* * *

  
Court Lady Han had prayed and prayed to meet the queen, and now her prayers have been answered. 

She tried not to think _how_ it was answered. She had been frozen in fear wondering if the king seemed to be cursed to lose people he loved. But she was glad that was over. The king was not cursed. The king was happy. And now Their Majesties were coming to her. 

She just had to endure Head Court Lady Noh’s instructions. 

They had always been rivals, and Head Court Lady Choi, two weeks before her death, had made the wise decision to keep the two apart by assigning Lady Han to Gyeoulgungjeon. Lady Han had loved it. It was like being given her own palace! She was the chatelaine. Without the royal family in residence, she was pretty much the chief of everything. 

Lady Noh stayed in Gwangyeongjeon, where the woman ended up raising the king. 

Lady Han had long ceased being bitter about that. She still got the king every winter. And now she was also getting the queen. For far longer than she’d anticipated, if she had anything to do with it. 

And she would. 

“Make sure the lift doesn’t shake or jerk. Her Majesty has a fractured collarbone. So does her Unbreakable Sword.”

“It’s only a crack, not broken. The lift does not shake or jerk. Have you ever ridden in it?” 

“Stock the king’s kitchen and then leave it alone. They like to cook for themselves.”

“I know that.”

“You’re not going to dress the queen. She has her own dresser and--”

Lady Han, who had looked after the king’s grandmother as her dresser, and who did like using this tidbit to take over dressing the king’s mother whenever they had visited in the past, bristled. “Of course Her Majesty has her own dresser. Why would I presume to--”

  
“Will you let me finish? I was going to say the king attends to the queen himself, so don’t get any ideas.”

Lady Han didn’t say anything. The king. Hmm. It looked like she was going to be able to look after the queen, after all. It took more finesse to persuade a dutiful servant. Whereas she could simply _be_ that dutiful servant and the king would fold. 

“The Corean Awards will be held at Gyeoulgungjeon. Everything you need will be sent to you.” 

“I can order what I need.” 

“Why are you so tiresome? I am assuming you’re not going to waste money ordering what’s already been procured and prepared here? We will send it to you.” 

“You’re not going to send anything or anyone else?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have a full staff here. I won’t need yours.”

“You expect me to send the king and queen there without attendants?”

“They’ll have attendants aplenty when they’re here. They can fly or drive here easily. I’ll have none of your spies.” 

“Spies! I can just come myself.” 

Lady Han sputtered. 

“Now this is from the king himself. His Majesty wants you to make sure nothing poses a risk to the queen. He apologizes and he is sure you have things well in hand but he feels the need to have it said. No chemicals anywhere. Check all the rugs. Keep away the cat litter boxes. 

* * *

Tae-eul looked out at the autumn foliage and focused on how beautiful it was. Not the fact that the last time she had looked at them from the window of a moving car, she’d been interrupted so rudely and almost fatally. 

She barely managed not to shudder. She drummed her fingers on her lap and flexed her left wrist. 

“What are you thinking right now?”

“I was thinking it’s been so long since I sat in the passenger seat.”

She turned to Gon just in time to catch his grin and that dimple. He glanced at her briefly and then turned his eyes back on the road, hands at the two and ten o’clock position. One perk of being driven around everywhere was she could hold his hand all she wanted. Or kiss him. Or snuggle against his side. 

She wished she could hold his hand now. She probably could if her left arm wasn’t out of commission. 

He glanced at her again, turning his head to her quickly and back to the road. “Did I tell you you look beautiful in this light? We should have a skylight in all the cars.” 

What could she say to that? She just looked out the window. 

He wasn’t finished. “Being driven around did have the benefit of being able to kiss you anytime I wanted.” 

She looked at him in amazement. He could read her mind now? “You talk like we haven’t kissed for days. Just keep driving.” 

She patted her cheeks. He laughed. All right, he was relaxed now. If teasing her did that, fine. And maybe the fact that the road was now free of other cars soothed him.

It was fallow farmland, trees, and low and high peaks bracketing their little convoy of identical cars. Theirs was in the middle of the Guard’s vehicles. Two in front, two behind. 

They had flown from Busan to Hongcheon, and now they were driving to Gyeoulgungjeon. They could have flown straight to the palace grounds, but Tae-eul had wanted to drive. It was a beautiful autumn morning, and she wanted that drive, wanted to make herself comfortable in a car again, wanted things back to normal. 

Well, not exactly normal if Gon was driving, with neither Jangmi nor Yeong in the car with them. 

But it was still good to know she was fine. He was fine. He hadn’t protested when she said they should take a car at least part of the way because it was bound to be a beautiful drive and she wanted to see it. 

He’d agreed it was. And when they arrived at the airstrip to the fleet of cars waiting, he had ushered her to the passenger seat of this car and slid into the driver’s side like he did it every day. 

“What’s on your mind?” 

She just smiled and continued looking at him even though her neck was starting to tire. She wished again that she could move her left arm so she could touch him or hold his hand. Or stroke his shoulder and arm. 

“I’m trying to imagine you with curls. You know Gong Shin has curls. Is he coming to the Corean Awards?”

As she’d predicted, Gon pressed his lips into a line. She laughed heartily. She could tease him right back, and she knew what poked his buttons. 

She’d learned to laugh gently because of her collarbone, but it felt good to laugh. She looked down at her belly. Wasn’t it good for babies when their mothers laughed? 

She looked at Gon and smiled wider when she saw he was smiling then, too, looking at her right hand which had unconsciously curled around her lower belly. 

“You’re the one with waves. Your dad, too. I hope the little bean inherits it.” 

“No, I want him or her to have better hair than mine.”

“Your hair is wonderful.”

“You’re a little biased.”

“Not biased. I have an informed opinion. I touch that hair every day. It’s soft and beautiful.”

“How is that not biased? Do you touch Yeong’s hair every day too?”

“No. You’ve seen him. That hair is untouchable.”

She held her left shoulder to make sure she didn’t unconsciously shrug as they laughed. 

Another minute and the landscape began to be dotted by isolated homesteads, and then clutches of cottages, until they finally entered the village and people lined the main street their cars took, waving the black and gold flags of the Royal Court, and the forget-me-not blue pennon standard bearing the royal insignia-- the queen’s flag. 

It was the flag they’d unfurled on her wedding, on the announcement of the pregnancy, and the diplomatic flag on the queen’s vehicles when she was abroad. Apparently, it was also simply hers, and Coreans waved it to show they were glad of her, for her. 

They didn’t seem to know in which car to look and wave, but they ignored the first car, knowing it had to belong to the Guard. They just waved at all four succeeding black cars. 

She saw a line of kids ahead, all holding blue flags, and she looked at Gon. 

He peered at the road ahead and he must have seen the tall, black-suited figures of the Royal Guard among the people just as Tae-eul did, so he nodded at her. 

She pushed a button and their car’s dark tinted outer windows all rolled down, leaving the transparent bulletproof glass up. 

They heard the muffled sound of the crowd’s reaction as they came into view. 

Tae-eul smiled as the kids looked at the king a little slack-jawed, some of them too young to understand the significance of this man and woman in the car, only imitating or wondering about the adults going crazy. The kids gamely waved their flags, meeting her eyes and smiling back at her. 

Some of the kids’ mothers and grandmothers cried at the sight of her. From what she could read of their lips, they were saying they were glad she was all right. One or two were crying so hard and stomping their feet on the ground, and when they attracted attention, it was like a domino effect. Soon, more women did the same, as if they were suddenly competing on who could be more dramatic. 

“This is getting awkward,” Tae-eul said without moving her lips much. 

Gon was half-grimacing, half-grinning. “Seung-ah said the Catholics started novenas and the Protestants had prayer meetings when you had your accident. This village is exclusively Buddhist-- they couldn’t pray for you exactly, so this emotion is understandable, I suppose.”

“Shouldn’t they be more, um, peaceful?”

Gon laughed. “Ahh. That’s just Corean women being dramatic, not Buddhism.”

Thankfully before someone decided to swoon from wailing, they left the village behind and entered the winding tree-lined road to the palace. Gon shifted gears as the car began to climb. 

“What do you do when you’re here?” Tae-eul asked. There must have been early heavy snow, because there were banks of it on the sides of the road and the mountain slopes that came into view were blanketed in white. 

“Sleep, mostly. I catch up on rest. I also catch up on some work I’d had to put on the back burner. I ski. I split wood.” Gon peered at the slopes. “I think it’s too early yet for skiing.”

“You chop wood?”

“Yes. It’s a skill, you know.”

“Are you any good at it?” 

“You won’t be embarrassed of your husband.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

He grinned at the windshield and then gave her a long side glance that made her breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ll have to split wood when you’re with me. I only did it to expend excess energy in mindless physical exercise.”

Thankfully, she didn’t have to reply, because they were crossing the gate and Tae-eul could already see the double rows of green hanbok lined up along the front doors as their car crossed the circular driveway. 

All the servants seemed to be in hanbok, none of the modern uniforms in Gwangyeongjon. It was quite a contrast, because Gyeoulgungjeon reminded her of European mansions or palaces. 

She knew it was built almost a hundred years ago, but it looked quite modern, with granite and marble ledges, gigantic rocks, and stands of shrubs and tall grass as the major elements of the landscaping, along with majestic pines, spruces and firs soaring high but grounded so gracefully with their leaves brushing the ground. 

“Do you like it? They said my omma updated the landscaping. It used to be an English garden, with topiaries and a hedge maze.” 

“It’s beautiful.” She blinked at the center of the two rows of servants. “Gon. Am I seeing two Lady Nohs?” 

Two distinct head court ladies stood there. The other one seemed a little rounder than Lady Noh, but otherwise the two ladies looked almost identical in their height, hair, hanbok, and halmeoni air of being feared and respected.

“The other one’s Lady Han. Hmm. Why is Lady Noh here? This is Lady Han’s domain. Lady Noh must be worried about you. And Lady Han will try to mother you.” He chuckled at her bug-eyed expression. “Don’t worry. You’re the queen. You can tell them to stop. And I’ll fend them off as much as I can.” 

“She’s not going to give me more tisanes? I’d just finished that with Lady Noh.” 

Gon stopped the car. He removed his seatbelt and turned to her. “Lady Han was my grandmother’s dresser. She’s more the type who will want to dress you than feed you.” His eyes went soft and his voice dropped an octave. “And that’s out of the question because I’m your dresser until you can move again.” 

Tae-eul felt herself respond to those eyes and that voice too quickly so she raised her chin. “I can always ask Chung-cha to switch. And she’s not afraid of you.” 

“But you like it better when I do it.” He leaned in closer. 

They both heard the ridiculousness and double entendre in what he said at the same time. They both laughed, but he was still leaning in. “Lee Gon. The windows are transparent.” 

“What?” he said innocently. 

She heard a faint click and felt her seat belt loosen. And he had already turned around to get out of his door. She still saw his cheekbones bunched up in a grin. 

All the staff--whose heads had bowed the moment their car crossed the gate-- now bent at the waist and stayed bent as Gon opened her door and helped her out. She squeezed his hand twice and he turned to the staff and gestured for them to stop bowing. 

The temperature stunned her a little as she let Gon lever her up and out and the heating in the car no longer enveloped her. It was colder here in this elevation. Gon saw her shiver and moved to tuck her against him without jarring her shoulder. Then she saw a swath of mink appear before her. 

Lady Han had stepped forward and was offering the mink wrap in outstretched hands, still with her head bowed. 

“Gamsahamnida.” Tae-eul took the mink but her fingers had barely sunk in the fur before it was withdrawn from her touch. 

Lady Han looked like she could walk around in pearls in Pyeongchang-dong. She was petite and pretty. And was currently moving closer to place the wrap around Tae-eul’s shoulders. 

For Lady Han to do that, Gon had to let go of Tae-eul, and Tae-eul surreptitiously bent her knees so Lady Han could reach her shoulders. 

Lady Han said sweetly, “Welcome home, Pyeha. Welcome to Gyeoulgungjeon, wangbi mama.”

Lady Noh stepped forward, and she didn’t quite push aside Lady Han, but the latter moved aside anyway and Tae-eul was glad, because she hadn’t seen Lady Noh since she had left the palace for London. 

Lady Noh looked up at Tae-eul with such tenderness that Tae-eul felt her eyes sting and she had to blink back tears. 

“How are you, Lady Noh?” she said softly. 

Lady Noh peered up at her and looked at her cheek with its healing but still pink airbag burn, her shoulder and arm in the sling. “Are you all right, mama? You don’t have any pain?” 

Tae-eul shook her head. She wanted to hug Lady Noh, but knew she shouldn’t in front of the other staff, especially Lady Han, so she settled for a big smile and knew Lady Noh had understood when the old lady returned the smile and nodded.

“You’re all right, mama,” Lady Noh said, with her emphatic nods. “And it’s a brilliant sunny day we’re having. And a crescent moon tonight.”

Tae-eul didn’t realize tears had fallen until Lady Noh reached up and wiped them, and then she no longer cared that she might be inciting some jealousy between the two jejo sang-gung. She wrapped her good arm around Lady Noh’s shoulders. 

She felt Lady Noh very gently pat her on the middle of her back. She also felt Gon’s hand between her shoulder blades under the mink. Tae-eul sighed, the last knot in her chest that she hadn’t even been aware of finally untying and she could breathe more freely. 

Things were really going to be fine. They were fine. 

* * *

  
The king and queen looked adorable, holding hands ahead of her. 

Lady Noh had been called away to oversee the arrival of the Corean Awards miscellany just as Lady Han had intended, and she gleefully followed Their Majesties inside the palace. It was her home as much as theirs, and it was her privilege (and right) to be the one to welcome them in it. Lady Noh already had her moment with the queen, hadn’t she? 

The king had his grandfather’s height-- his father hadn’t been this tall. He kept the queen close by his side, and seemed to watch for her every movement and every expression as they entered the palace. 

The queen smiled at all the vases of blue flowers in the foyer, looking up at the king with something like rueful fondness while he just grinned at her. 

Schooling her face in a way only decades of training could allow, Lady Han looked around as if she wasn’t bursting with pride. Her greenhouses had produced all this. 

True blue chrysanthemums imported from Japan in 2017, Victoria blue salvias, variegated blue and white geraniums, and of course, perfectly pale blue hydrangeas with flower heads the size of small cabbages. All spilling and cascading in the foyer in not-too-tidy arrangements. 

The king had been very specific about that. Blue flowers, crystal vases--not porcelain or ceramic antiques-- and nothing too contrived. 

And a bouquet of forget-me-nots tied with twine, which efficiently appeared beside Lady Han at just the right moment while the queen was looking up at the glass and steel dome three stories up. 

Lady Han passed the bouquet to the king. 

“That cupola was added after the war, and only when it looked like there won’t be another war.. Would have been a waste if it had been built and bombed. Do you like it?” 

The queen glanced at the king as if he was silly for even asking that, and Lady Han saw the queen’s hand go to her necklace. The old court lady’s sharp eyes had taken note of that necklace earlier when she’d put the mink around the queen. The pendant matched the plum blossom design of the glass dome. 

“Oh, Gon.”

Lady Han cursed the glass dome. She completely missed seeing the king giving the queen the bouquet. It was already in the queen’s hand now and Her Majesty was looking up at the king’s face, not the architecture. 

“Saranghae. Welcome home, Tae-eulie.” 

Tae-eulie. How absolutely sweet. The queen just nodded, and before her face by the king’s gentle embrace, Lady Han saw for herself what they’d heard all the way from Gwangyeongjeon: the queen’s beautiful and expressive eyes.   
  
She had fully intended to follow them to their chamber, to make sure they were attended to and had everything they needed, but as the king and queen walked to the lift with their hands clasped, it felt almost like a sacrilege to intrude, so Lady Han stayed where she was. 

When she arrived at the doors of the queen’s suite at the polite duration of five minutes later, she knocked first. 

“Come in,” said the king’s voice. 

Lady Han found them on the sofa, coats and shoes and boots off, the queen’s legs on the king’s lap and the king unbuttoning the queen’s cuff. 

Lady Han immediately looked away and pretended to inspect the applewood burning nicely as it should in the fireplace. “Is everything to your satisfaction, Pyeha, Mama? Do you require anything?”

The queen looked half asleep already, reclining on the arm of the sofa. 

The king said softly, “We’ll just nap, Lady Han, thank you. That will be all. We’ll use the kitchen when we wake.” 

That meant the king would dress the queen himself. Lady Noh conceded defeat for the time-being and retreated. They looked too sweet to disturb anyway. 

* * *

Gon stroked Tae-eul’s calf with one hand, his other clutched in her left hand. Her left upper arm was propped on the sofa’s bolster pillow so it wouldn’t strain her collarbone. She looked comfortable, her eyes closed. 

“You’re not hungry?”

“Mmmm. Hot cocoa. Marshmallows. Myeolchi bokkeum.”

Gon nodded without expression. “We have the hot cocoa here.” He nodded to the console in one side of the room where variable temperature kettles stood ready with hot chocolate and hot water for tea. “I’ll go make your myeolchi. Give me ten minutes.”

He made sure she was settled nicely on the sofa, kissed her forehead, and hoped to Buddha and the Holy Trinity that the kitchen had myeolchi. 

Yeong followed him down the service stairs--fastest route--and into the kitchen. Staff were still there, and Gon was thankful. They had myeolchi _and_ myeolchi bokkeum already made and stored in the fridge, but he put a skillet on the stove to heat and rattled off all the ingredients he needed, all placed and prepped within his reach under Yeong’s watchful eye. 

Gon made Yeong mix the coating: gochugaru, water, soy sauce, fish sauce, gochujang and garlic. Simple enough. 

Toasting the anchovies and then caramelizing with sugar took the longest at about four minutes. Then mixing it with the coating was easy work. 

He was done in eight minutes. 

Someone asked, “Pyeha, do you want rice?”

“No. Well, give me two cups just in case. Taste it.”

“More meat and banchan? We also have soup, Pyeha.” 

“No, just this. And make sure that rice is not scented with anything.”

The court maid scooping rice into the bowl froze. 

Gon had already smelled the distinct pandan and jasmine scent. He just nodded. “That’s fine. Leave it. We usually leave it to cool so the scent goes down. Her Majesty can still smell it, though, unless I cover the rice with something else.”

The court maids looked torn, undoubtedly thinking of the palace’s stocks of rice. The best rice also happened to be fragrant rice. The same dilemma had descended on the Gwangyeongjeon kitchens when Tae-eul discovered the scent of rice made her stomach turn just before she’d left for London.

“Don’t worry about it.” Gon finished prepping the trolley. As he wheeled it out, he heard Yeong say, “All the drinks and prepared banchan in the fridge, all the food in the pantry: please ready them for testing. Who are the appointed tasters? Good. Thank you. This kitchen will be completely restricted. That’s the king’s order.” 

Gon turned around. “Thank you, Yeong. But you know you’re on vacation, and the staff knows protocol.” 

Yeong tapped his watch with his finger. “Mama’s waiting, Pyeha.”

Gon rolled his eyes. “She’s napping.” But he sped up. 

Tae-eul was awake, padding to the console in her socks when he came in. She poured herself hot chocolate, and it was apparently her second mug, judging from the mug in her hand and the brown foam on one corner of her lips. Gon chuckled. 

She smiled back. “I can smell it. It smells so good!”

He placed the bowl of banchan on the coffee table, along with the pot of hot cocoa and bowl of marshmallows. Tae-eul sat on the floor to eat. 

As far as snacks went, it wasn’t that disgusting. He could imagine the sweet-savory-spiciness of the myeolchi bokkeum going quite well with the hot cocoa. 

His phone vibrated. It was Song-eun noona replying to his text about this combination. 

_Yeah, that’s fine. But we need to watch for heartburn in case all that causes acid reflux._

He had already pocketed his phone when it vibrated again. 

_Stop asking me every time she gets even mildly weird cravings. Let her have what her body tells her to have._

He replied, _Come up here so you’re not cranky._

 _Shut up. I have patients. Do you know how many babies get conceived on and after Valentine’s Day? They’re all born November to December_.

Gon laughed. 

“What is it?”

He showed Tae-eul the texts. 

She smiled. “When does she come up here?” 

“Probably only on the day of the awards.”

“That’s a shame. Everyone does want her as their doctor. Hey.” She pointed at him. “Conceived in winter.” She pointed at herself and her belly. “Conceived in summer.”

He pointed at her belly. “No, conceived in winter.” 

“What are you talking about? It was August.” 

Gon nodded. “Exactly. August. In New Zealand.”

Tae-eul blushed. “Was it New Zealand?”

“I strongly suspect New Zealand.” 

Tae-eul cupped her hot cocoa in both hands and seemed to contemplate it. She sipped twice and then said, “Which time do you think?”

“Are you done with your snack?”

Tae-eul nodded. 

Gon plucked the mug from her hands and gently scooped her up from where she sat on the carpet. “I’ll show you which time I think.” 

He sat on the sofa, and careful not to jar her left side, pulled her from her standing position in front of him into sitting on his lap. 

“Oh.” With that soft agreement and soft smile, she snaked her right arm around his waist and turned her face up for a kiss. 

Gon smiled and kissed Tae-eul’s smile. He’d missed her so much. God, he’d missed her. She smelled heavenly, her skin felt like silk, and he couldn’t get enough, would never get enough of her taste and touch. 

His left arm was supporting her, his right hand cradling her neck and cheek. That hand soon moved and cupped and squeezed her breast, and she shivered. 

“Be careful. Don’t jar your shoulder, Tae-eul,” he whispered in her ear. She shivered again and slapped his back with the arm she had around him. 

“ _You_ be careful.” 

“Really?” He stopped moving. “How careful?”

“Never mind. Keep going.”

They both laughed at the whine in her voice. Her hand around his back slapped again and then gripped his shirt tight when his hand pushed her left leg just enough to make room for his hand where it needed to be.

Everything in Tae-eul softened and tensed the moment his finger made electric contact. She dropped her head on his shoulder, her eyelids drooped, her mouth opened in a silent moan, and he felt her grip on his shirt go even tighter. 

He maneuvered his left hand so he could hold her left elbow to make sure she didn’t accidentally move her arm and jar her collarbone. 

It didn’t take long. He knew what she liked. Soft circular caresses, up and down oval brushing to spread her wetness. More consistent circular strokes. He watched her shiver and shake against him as she came, moaning softly. Watched her flush from her chest to her forehead to her ears. 

They were both breathing hard. She moved her hand from his back to his nape, stroking his hair there as she pulled him down for a kiss. Her lips pressed to his, their breaths mingling, tongues tapping. 

Then she pulled back and laid her cheek on his shoulder. 

“Ahhh so that time, you think?” she whispered, her voice husky. 

That voice and the way she looked-- And Gon with his genius level IQ said, “What?” He had no idea what she was saying. 

Tae-eul laughed. “New Zealand. Sofa. Lace dress. Anzac biscuits. Little bean conceived in winter.”

“Oh. Yeah. Let me just--”

Tae-eul looked at him ruefully. That pout really wasn't helping. 

“It’s all right. I'm fine.” He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “You’ll make it up to me.”

“Yes, I will.”

Gon groaned, deposited her to the sofa, and went to the bathroom so he could take a cool shower.

* * *

Tae-eul hated her fracture. 

Neither she nor Gon had voiced this, because it felt like a childish complaint in the face of everything, but she really hated it. 

She couldn’t do anything for Gon. Everything jarred her collarbone. They’d actually tried but one yelp of pain and Gon had refused to try anything else, so firm in his logic, telling her it would be the same jarring movement anyway, with the same painful result. 

She couldn’t even hug him properly. 

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Come here.” 

They were lying side by side on the bed, the curtains drawn against the winter daylight. She was holding Gon’s left arm against her. But now she let go and gestured to her pajama-clad right shoulder. 

Gon sleepily acquiesced, moving downward in bed until he could rest his head on her chest, that perfect spot between her breast and shoulder. He was a nice, warm weight, his hair on her chin, so soft and smelling so good. 

He wrapped his arm around her waist and his thigh rested across both of hers. 

Tae-eul wrapped her right arm around his neck and rested her hand on his bare shoulder. 

That was better. She felt him move his hand to pet her belly and she smiled and fell asleep. 

She woke up to Chung-cha placing a small plate of saltines on the bedside table. She hadn’t made a sound but Tae-eul was used to her eyes opening whenever someone made movement close to her. 

When Chung-cha saw Tae-eul’s eyes had opened, she smiled and raised her eyebrows in the universally understood language of asking if Tae-eul felt all right. 

Tae-eul nodded but reached for a cracker anyway, just to be safe. Chung-cha smiled, bowed and left. 

Poor Chung-cha. With Gon waiting on Tae-eul hand and foot, Chung-cha was reduced to taking care of the little details, what little details Gon didn’t already provide anyway, usually when he and Tae-eul were both asleep. 

To make things simple, Chung-cha also became a designated taster aside from being the queen’s dresser. 

This meant three things. One, she could take care of Tae-eul’s food and snacks. Two, she tasted everything herself, and three, if the queen got poisoned, Chung-cha could be beheaded for dereliction of duty or outright being the source of poison. 

Chung-cha seemed fine with it. Tasters apparently had medical benefits and insurance policies worth billions of won and Tae-eul wondered how cold it was outside now it was noon and how far she could walk. She hadn’t stretched her legs any significant amount since London. 

The room reminded her a bit of London. White paneling, blue wallpaper, mahogany furniture, tall windows, light gray and blue upholstery. Come to think of it, Gwangyeongjeon was decorated in a European style, too. 

Who knew her “emotional and hormonal foundation,” as Seo-ryeong had called it once when Tae-eul had annoyed her too much, would soon have offices across Europe?

Seo-ryeong hadn’t called on her yet. She had only sent a note that said she was glad Tae-eul was alive and she hated hospitals so she would visit when she was out of there.

Tae-eul snickered at how her brain seemed to just skip about like… like something that skips. 

Behind her, Gon felt that snicker and nuzzled his face against her hair. 

Sometime during their sleep, Gon had moved to her left and had probably maneuvered her to lie on her side, the recommended sleeping position Song-eun had told them about so Tae-eul’s growing uterus wouldn’t interfere with her circulation. 

Another thing she hated about her fracture: she could only lie on her right side, and she couldn’t turn around to cuddle against Gon like she used to. He was also careful not to jar her collarbone, so he stuck to very gentle, barely there touches instead of their usual competition of who could hug tighter. 

Pushing on the bed with her leg and arm, she laid on her back again and Gon moved to give room for her left side and to keep her elbow pressed against her. When she was settled, he got out of bed and got back in on her right side, elbow propped near her shoulder and looking down at her, half in fondness and half to see if she wasn’t nauseated. 

So she placed her hand on his cheek and smiled up at him. He kissed her softly. 

“Is that a new cracker?” he said after the kiss. 

“I know, right? Tastes like chicken to me somehow.” 

He laughed and had already turned around to her side table. He placed the plate on her chest and they both finished the crackers. 

They decide to take a walk. 

“Let’s just keep this on,” Tae-eul said, when Gon was about to unbutton her top. “I like it. It’s warm. I think I can wear it with jeans.”

Gon gamely helped her into dark blue denims. All her denims already had cleverly sewn elastics. At her current baby bump, she could still use buttons, and Gon buttoned her jeans over her top, checked the fit, and was satisfied. 

“You look good. Half-ready for bed.” He chuckled. He gently pushed her toward a chair and then knelt by her feet once she was seated. It was routine by now, Gon helping her into stockings or socks, but it still made her feel mushy. 

He picked up her feet one at a time, resting it on his knee, and then rolling the sock on. He had this habit of squeezing her socked foot after he was done, his fingers sinking into the sole and arch of her foot. 

“Why do you do that?”

“What”

“Squeezing my foot after you dress it.” 

He looked surprised, and then he laughed. “I’m also gonna squeeze you after I’m done dressing you.”

He helped her into red winter boots and a grey plaid merino wool cape. Then he did squeeze her, as much as he could given the circumstances anyway. 

Tae-eul really hated her fracture. 

* * *

Tae-eul looked like an angel in the autumn sunlight. She was born in spring. She was meant for the sun. 

He looked around at the landscape, but only to see it through Tae-eul’s eyes. They were walking along the stream that cut through the palace grounds on its way down the slopes. Many of the trees around them were already bare, but just enough still had their brilliant autumn foliage. 

He took a photo of Tae-eul as she leaned a hand against a tree and just looked at the vista of softly flowing water, rocks and trees. She looked beautiful against the scenery with her hair loose over her gray cape. Her red boots almost perfectly matched the foliage on the ground. 

“It’s beautiful. Is this where you take your women? Do you make them walk here and then feed them steak and rice because they get hungry from the hike because they’re the kind who hates breaking a sweat so they just don’t eat instead of getting exercise?” 

Gon barely managed to pocket his phone, laughing hard at the sudden question and Tae-eul’s succeeding rant. He checked his other coat pocket and found the insulated sandwich bag there. 

“Are you hungry? I brought a steak sandwich for you.”

He unzipped the bag. It was hard to keep a straight face as Tae-eul’s face softened into that nose-scrunch smile the moment she smelled the sandwich. 

“You still didn’t answer my question,” she said, after her first four bites. 

They both knew she was kidding, but it was a game they liked playing. “What question? You’re the first person who’s been here with me since adulthood, not counting the staff and the Guard.”

She gave him back the sandwich--half unfinished-- and reached for his hand when he had zipped the bag and put it back in his pocket. “Did you walk here with your dad?”

He nodded. If he listened hard enough, his father’s voice was there with the gurgle of the stream and the chirp of the birds, pointing out trees, shrubs, and animals on the ground and flitting through the branches. 

“We used to always come here for summer or winter, but he always ended up busy in the summer so winter it was. He said we need trees to live. He was always sneaking away to his trees around the palace. Drove his Unbreakable Sword mad. That was Yeong’s father, you know.”

“I saw him in some of your photos. He guarded you while Yeong was still in that bowl cut. I can’t believe he had it until he was thirteen. And I can’t believe I’d forgotten to tease him about it.”

Tae-eul let go of his hand, took out her phone, and made a voice note: “Tease Yeong about bowl cut.” 

Gon laughed. 

Tae-eul took his hand again and put both of their hands in her cape pocket. “It’s good to hear you laugh. I missed that.”

“Haven’t I been laughing?” 

“Only since this morning, I think.” 

“Really? Maybe I’m just glad to get you out of the hospital.”

“I’m glad, too. We did get some work done in there, though. That’s something.”

He smiled. She’d had meetings with various heads of state and departments over the past few days, already scheduled before her accident. She’d still taken the meetings, and he’d heard the exclamations asking after her and wishing her well. “Full steam ahead for the Foundation?”

“Full steam ahead. It’s out of my hands now. We have structure and everything’s in place so neither Seo-ryeong nor I have to be stuck in the middle of it.”

“That’s how it should be. Efficient. Don’t tire yourself out.”

“Look who’s talking. I saw them taking four briefcases to your office. Four.” 

“Those are files I asked to take a look at.”

“You can commission lawyers and judges you trust to take care of every single one of those files.”

Gon paused in their walk. The way Tae-eul looked at him with a poker face reminded him of another walk, with fallow fields surrounding them and she’d just told him she knew exactly what scandalous meant and pointed out his missed opportunity. 

He couldn’t help it, he laughed. 

One side of Tae-eul’s mouth went up in response, but she looked at him in confusion. “Now you’re laughing too much.” 

He shook his head. “I remembered something else. I’ll take your advice, jungjeon, thank you. But I’ve already read those files and I already have a plan.”

He made to walk again, but this time, Tae-eul tugged him back. “I’m proud of you, do you know that?” She looked down at their joined hands, and then looked up in that adorable way, with that exact same soft smile he had loved seeing directed at him for the first time in front of the KU Building. “Jalhaess-eo. Saranghae.”

He wondered if a time would come when she would no longer make his heart race. 

Not forgetting that she was hurt, he gently pulled her in his arms, curled his body around her, and rested his head on hers. 

“Gomawo, nae sarang. And I say it right back to you. I’m so proud of you. Well done, Tae-eulie.” 

* * *

The winter palace was both comforting in its newness. 

On that first night, with the humidifier blowing soft clouds of air toward her and her stuffed nose, Gon asked Tae-eul if she was all right, if she wanted to go home to Gwangyeongjeon, or even to visit her father, but no, she liked the winter palace. 

The clean, sharp mountain air was heavenly. Alternating with the breath-stealing coldness outside, the palace was toasty and warm.. And it had cats. 

She wasn’t sure if it was Gon or Lady Han they liked, but cats were everywhere in Gyeoulgungjeon. 

Three fluffy white ones with browns on their faces, noses, ears and tails seemed to live in their suite, unabashed about walking in on Gon and Tae-eul when they were doing business alone or together. 

The cats had sought refuge in their closet when Gon and Tae-eul first arrived, but had ventured out once they sniffed out Gon and discovered Tae-eul was a sucker for cats. 

She gave them food from her plate and simply made a lot of fuss over them, scooping them up with her one good arm or lying down and cuddling with them if they deigned to came over. 

Tae-eul liked that cats each had personalities and it was like getting to know someone new when you befriended one. And here she had three! 

And they all swarmed around her when she woke up that first night to the sound of screeching crash and shattered glass in her head. 

Gon turned on the lamp, got up, and gave her some water. Tae-eul drank and then had to pee, with a trail of cats in her wake. 

By the time she went back to bed, she was no longer breathing hard, and the cats walked all over them both to get to Tae-eul’s side. One curled up near her neck, with its head resting on Tae-eul’s good shoulder. The second made a bed in the space between her legs, and the last one laid down by her side, curving around her hip and waist. 

“I think they know my left shoulder is out of bounds as a cuddle spot.”

“Or they just like to get in between us because it’s warm.”

Tae-eul laughed. 

“Are you all right?” 

“Yeah. I’m sorry I woke you. It will pass. Dr. Hwang agrees, too.” She’d been having nightmares of the accident on and off, at night and during her naps. The frequency had no pattern, sometimes it didn’t happen at all, or she got the nightmare once a day, sometimes twice. 

Dr. Hwang said it was normal. It wasn’t ideal, but it was still relatively normal that her subconscious was replaying things. It was horrifying, and she still had remnant feelings of horror about it. 

Tae-eul had watched the footage so she could see it all from another perspective. Seung-ah still refused to watch it herself, but someone else in the Royal Public Affairs Office had edited the footage, splicing it, adding credits like in a melodrama, and adding filters and special effects to make it look like something filmed. 

When she saw the Goblin scene at the end, Tae-eul had laughed uproariously. That was the first day she hadn’t had the nightmare. 

It helped to see it like that, to acknowledge all the facts associated with what happened, all her terror and absolute disbelief, and at the same time seeing it like that kept her emotions and distress at a distance. 

“Do you want some ginger honey tea? Do you want to look at the video again?” Gon asked softly. 

But she was stroking the cat at her waist and Gon was stroking her hair and she was already falling asleep. 

She dreamed something beautiful but it slipped her mind long before she woke up. 

And she woke up to Gon babying her for the day, buttoning her up in a pink tweed jacket with black lace ruffles on the neck and cuffs. 

“Isn’t this too much for being at home? You and Chung-cha are having too much fun that I’m incapacitated and can’t easily take off what you put on me.” 

He just laughed. He paired it with a pair of black soft trousers that was a button and a zipper away from being pajamas, so she didn’t complain. There was nothing to complain about anyway. 

Not when he knelt by her feet again and buckled her feet into ankle strap flats. 

And not when he cooked her galbi and musaengchae and all her favorite banchan while wearing a soft fuzzy sweater she couldn’t stop touching. 

So it was understandable she forgot a dream, no matter how beautiful, because real life was even more delicious. 

* * *

  
Jangmi liked it when the three most powerful heads of the kingdom were in the same room. He inconspicuously turned on the recorder function in his earpiece so the rest of the Guard could enjoy it later, too. They took their job seriously. That didn’t mean they didn’t enjoy the good parts. 

And there were many good parts for the guards because they were intelligent people with healthy senses of humor. 

The PM had just arrived in Gyeoulgungjeon the same way she arrived at Gwangyeongjeon, with barely any notice. She was always expected in Gwangyeongjeon but no one had expected her here. The queen hadn’t summoned her. 

Security was tight. There was some superstition or tradition (well, more like a _directive_ from Lady Noh) about keeping the queen hidden away. 

But here the PM was in the king and queen’s study, and the king and the PM were butting heads the way they usually did. 

“What do you mean you’re going to stay here until the Corean Awards?”

The PM ignored the king and spoke to the queen. “I did say I’ll take over your engagements and you still prance away to London and look what happened.”

The queen just looked at the PM from where she sat on the sofa. “I think you should answer the king when he asks you a direct question.” 

“What was your question? Pyeha?”

Jangmi scowled at the opposite wall so he wouldn’t laugh. Lately, the PM had this habit of appending “Pyeha” like an afterthought. It was utterly disrespectful. And hilarious. 

  
The king just looked at the PM without expression. 

“Oh. That I was going to stay here? I am. Because we’ll be busy and I’m not going to fly back and forth to dance attendance to Your Majesties, our work, the Corean Awards, and what state affairs I need to keep an eye on. That’s inefficient.”

“The flight doesn’t take long.”

The queen said, “Gon.” 

The PM smiled. The king’s face was now more expressionless than before. 

The queen said, “Of course we’d love to have you, Seo-ryeong.” 

Jangmi nodded at the court maid standing by the door, and she left. She’d get the PM’s luggage screened and then taken to a guest room. 

“Are you still on painkillers?” the PM asked next. Sometimes they talked in a dizzying way like this. You had to keep up. Or record it so some idiots didn’t think you just missed things. 

“Yes,” the queen answered. “It’s my prescription.” 

“Seo-gyeong said I should try to get you to stop taking them.” 

The king spoke with some indignation this time. “Are you a doctor now?”

The PM ignored him again. “You know what I’m talking about, Mama. You know about collarbone fractures. Your doctor probably just doesn’t want you in pain and losing sleep--”

The king: “Of course she doesn’t--”

The PM: “--but you know being on painkillers mean you’re numb to the pain, and that means you’re also unaware of stupid movements that would just prolong your healing.” 

Jangmi inwardly nodded. That was true enough. 

“Seo-gyeong broke her arm one time. She was on painkillers so she didn’t realize she’d moved the bones out of alignment and it started healing a little crooked.” 

The queen’s hand went toward her left collarbone. 

“Her clavicle didn’t actually break,” said the king. 

The PM turned to the king. “But the crack can worsen if you don’t watch it.” 

_“What do you mean if I don’t watch it?”_

“So no painkillers, Mama. And no kissing or whatever else you get up to until you’re no longer in pain without painkillers. Try using the gifts I gave you. _Alone_.”

_“What--”_

It took all of Jangmi’s self-control to stay impassive. The king had risen from his seat and looked like he wanted to strangle the PM. 

“Ask your doctor. She’ll agree with me. Now let me freshen up. I’ve been working all day.”

The PM smiled saucily at the king, and then at Jangmi as she swept past him and out the double doors. 

Jangmi scowled at the opposite wall so hard the queen asked him, “Jangmi, what’s wrong with you? Are you in pain?”

Jangmi rearranged his face, touched his earpiece to turn off the recorder, and drew himself to his full height. “Nothing, Mama. I’m all right.” 

The king was still sputtering. 

At a subtle nod from the queen, Jangmi left the study.

* * *

  
Happy new year! 

I realized I had enough to release so I polished these bits and here they are. 

I feel bad that this has been in draft since September. For those who aren’t on Twitter where I’ve whined about it in replies to people, my work came back with a vengeance in September, and then kept going until the insane holiday rush of Thanksgiving and BFCM and then Christmas. I think maybe I've moaned about this here, though, right? 

I’m thankful for the work, but man. 

I went full hermit for Christmas. I only talked to a few people, and all the Christmas greetings from family and friends are still unread in my inbox. I slept a lot. 

Do let me know if you’re still there and still enjoying this. I put a lot of effort into these. Probably too much, but it’s good practice. 

A few notes: 

  * Lady Han is Youn Yuhjung in my head. KGE’s grandma in Canola.
  * The cats are ragdolls. My dream cats. They’re so sweet and they’re gorgeous.
  * Tae-eul’s cape is inspired by R.E.D Valentino capes so look those up for the visual, but Tae-eul’s is custom made by the Royal Wardrobe.
  * The pajama top outfit is inspired by THIS. I love KGE in jeans. Images of KGE in jeans from @/love_goeun on IG



  * DO NOT take any of the clinical advice here as advice. This is a work of fiction, and while I did research what I mentioned here, this is fiction. Consult your therapist (or OB-gyn-- I feel silly for having to include this one).
  * Winter Palace Part 2 of 2 coming soonish! 



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: Reviews make me update faster. Thank you so much to those who do review. I appreciate it even though I'm unable to reply. I'm sorry. Writers are needy. I ask for reviews but I seem to ignore them-- I don't! :) You can drop me a line here or Tumblr or Twitter. @CoreaStories


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